Taken

Are We There Yet?

Entering the gym, I notice our “guests” are crowded into the upper gym. I’m thankful the night runners didn’t get in and that we didn’t have to retreat and defend that high place. I didn’t realize we had brought in so many and that it would be so crowded. It would have been a slaughter as there just isn’t any room to maneuver. The main gym is empty with the exception of Red Team; complete once again.

We gather in the middle of the floor threading our way through the cots and keeping an eye and ear out for additional night runner attempts. The vanishing all at once has me worried. I’ve seen them change tactics too many times in a similar manner — all at once — to believe they would just go away. I hope that’s the case but the occasional muffled shriek from nearby tells me it’s not. They are still around but it’s anyone’s guess as to what they are up to. I have only known them to be relentless and persistent. This vanishing all at once is a new trick but if they’re willing to leave us alone, I am all too willing to let them do just that.

Coming down off the high rush of adrenaline, I suddenly feel very tired and plop down on one of the cots. The hard, wooden floor below is still polished to a sheen but scuff marks mar its once pristine surface. The others sit in a cluster on the cots around. I have two members of Echo keep a watch on the doors. I want us close together because I have no idea just where the night runners will emerge from next and want to be able to respond in force in any direction.

Sweat still drips off my forehead and temples running down my face in single streams. Some run under the bandage still at my neck and sting the scratch that just won’t completely heal. It has to a large degree but not as fast as I normally would. My headache is fading again and I wonder if I still don’t have an infection of some sort from the scratch. The quick comings and goings of it are getting quite annoying to say the least. I shrug inwardly, I’m still breathing and my kids are safe — at least for the moment.

“I have to tell you, that was a close one,” Henderson says quietly amongst the group breaking through my thoughts.

“Yeah, no kidding,” I hear McCafferty say. “They almost got in. My back is never going to be the same.”

“Yeah, that one too. I was talking about the spotlight when we were going in through the fence though,” Henderson states.

“Oh, shit yeah,” Denton chimes in. “That was fucking close. I thought they had you for sure.”

“Yeah, you had me scared spitless, sir,” Henderson adds.

“You thought you were freakin’ worried. I was laying there waiting for you to take the shot. I was like, ‘Why aren’t you shooting this guy? Shoot this fucker dammit.’ I didn’t dare move to call though,” I say. “To me, it was obvious he had us in his sights. But in hindsight, obviously not.”

“Well, we were going to. Both Denton and I had headshots lined up and were about to pull the trigger when Sergeant Connell told us to hold off and she would make the call,” Henderson replies.

“I could see their faces clearly through my scope. They were curious no doubt but they weren’t registering that they actually discovered something. Not to worry, Jack, I plan to keep you around a little longer. They didn’t have weapons trained on you and I would have made the call to fire if they made any movements in that direction,” Lynn says.

“It was a good call but I’ll need a new pair of shorts pronto,” I say as several chuckles break out. “Plus, that spot won’t need to be watered for a while.”

“That’s true. I’ll attest to that. I was in the direct line of your, um, inadvertent discharge,” Greg says with a huge grin.

“Then you should be thanking me for the bouquet of flowers I sent in your direction,” I counter. Amidst the chuckles, I catch Lynn’s eye as she nods. That nod tells me she wants to talk alone so I rise and meet her off to the side, out of hearing range from the others.

“Jack, I didn’t want to bring this up in front of the others but how in the hell did you hear that guard walking? I mean, he wasn’t even in sight,” she asks looking up with worried eyes. I notice her quick glance to the now soggy bandage at my neck. I knew this was coming but expected it later; like during one of my ‘I didn’t hear you’ moments.

“I don’t know. I heard the scrunch of footsteps and it sounded like it was just around the corner. Must have been a trick of the night air, wind, or something,” I answer.

“I didn’t hear it, ‘trick of the night air’ or not and I was nearby,” she replies.

“I honestly don’t know,” I say.

“Can you hear anything out of the ordinary now or something you can’t see?” She asks.

I think for a moment and actually try to hear something I shouldn’t be able to. Nothing. Just the murmuring from the teams and those in the upper gym. No distinct words or similar hints of superior hearing. “I hear myself wanting to walk away from this conversation and wanting this night to end,” I answer.

“Jack Walker! Stop it. I’m worried about your headaches and now this. And your wound isn’t healing right,” she says.

“How do you know about the headaches?” I ask astonished. I had mentioned having one a time or two but nothing to account for her knowledge.

“I see you scrunch your face up and rub your temples. You think no one’s watching but I’ve seen you do that frequently,” she answers.

“Hmmm... Well, I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary now. As a matter of fact, my ears are still ringing from the claymores going off and the recent noise in the gym,” I respond.

Her sparkling blue eyes, now slightly bloodshot from the smoke irritating them and from being so tired, look up into mine with that look that says she doesn’t completely believe me but also tinged with worry.

“The headaches aren’t bad and they go away quickly. It’s nothing. If anything, there may be a touch of infection left over. That’s all,” I add. The look of not believing me continues. She tilts her head and purses her lips.

“Okay, Jack,” she says with a sigh escaping, “tell me if it gets worse.”

“I will,” I reply.

“Yeah, right,” she says rising on her toes and kisses me.

We make our way back to the cots. Robert and Bri come and sit next to me. I fold my arms around them grateful they are okay. I feel the absence of the stress and worry I had about their well-being. Don’t get me wrong, there is still plenty of stress but it is over what the night runners are up to and if we are completely safe yet. I feel Bri wince as I hug her tightly. I release my hold and look down to the rulers tied to her arm. A touch of anger builds toward those who hurt my little girl. They had better hope the night runners get them because they aren’t going to like it if I find any alive, I think looking at the socks securing her make-shift splint.

Bri notices me looking at her arm. “Gonzalez made it for me,” she says.

“How does it feel?” I ask.

“I hurts a little but it’s okay,” she answers.

I take her arm gently and look at it closer. I feel her wince again but it’s more from the anticipation of pain than anything actually hurting. Her arm is slightly swollen and red at about the midpoint of her forearm. I touch it softly and feel an increase in heat around the swelling.

“Move your fingers slowly,” I ask. She opens and closes her fist. “Does that hurt?”

“Only a little but it’s better than it was,” she answers.

“Okay, it looks more like a fracture than a break. Keep the splint on and take this,” I say reaching into my pocket and pulling out a pain pill. I break it in half.

Yes, I brought some. Force of habit I guess. We always brought some on missions and took them when there was a threat of action. That way you wouldn’t feel the damage and could keep going. I thought I had left those habits behind - the habits of mission preparation. I really thought that part of my life was over. I was happy living the relaxed life and those habits returning so readily and easily is not a comfort.

The murmuring from the upper gym increases. I send Gonzalez and McCafferty to calm and quiet them. The night runners know we are in here but there’s no use advertising our presence loudly. Plus, the people need some reassuring. Their lives have been turned upside down quite a bit in the past months and this is just one additional episode. They can’t be having very warm, fuzzy feelings right now. I don’t want them thinking they’ve gone from one armed group to another with the same intentions.

As the two women make their way to the side doors, a gentleman exits and passes them intent on coming to our little group. Gonzalez looks back and I nod. They let him continue. The man, dressed in jeans and a plain gray sweatshirt, makes his way to us. He looks to be in his late forties or early fifties and is in a modicum of good shape. His salt and pepper hair is cut short with what once must have been in a professional manner but now has tufts sticking out as if he has just risen from bed; which, he has. I rise and make room for him sweeping my arm in an inviting manner. He works his way through the cots and team members. I introduce myself and those around.

“Bob,” he says shaking hands. He sits.

“What’s the plan with us, young man?” Bob asks addressing me. If Lynn had been drinking milk, it would have flown out through her nose.

“We have a place built just north of Olympia and you’re welcome to come with us if you want. You’ll be free to go your own way but you are invited to come,” I answer ignoring Lynn’s, um, startlement. “That is when morning arrives. Our plan for now is to wait out the night and hope the night runners don’t find an alternate way in. Do you know this place well?”

“Night runners huh? Innovative and it fits. We’ve just taken to calling them demons. And yes, I know this place well. The only ways in that I know of are the pool and main entrances,” he answers. “And, I just wanted to make sure we weren’t being held here. There’s a lot of talk about ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ so to speak.”

“No one is being held against their will. I mean, we’ll have to stay in here tonight but come morning, everyone is free to do their own thing,” I state.

“I’m glad you fine folks happened along. What brought you here if you don’t mind my asking?” Bob asks.

I reach over and pat Robert and Bri, making sure to avoid hitting her arm, on the legs. “They took my kids,” I answer. Bob nods. No other explanation is necessary.

“So, what happened here?” Lynn asks.

“That is a long, sad tale,” he answers and proceeds to tell us.

The gist of the story is that the townspeople, or what was left of them, gathered together. They held up in the auditorium at night, built the fences and scrounged for food, water, and supplies during the day. They constructed the towers and accumulated firearms to protect themselves. They sealed the auditorium doors in much the same manner we did with the gym. Then, when they felt secure enough, they cleared the area as best as they could; bringing in the lights and generators and manning the perimeter at night. It was hard going but eventually the ‘demons’ started leaving them alone. The townspeople started building a farm on the outskirts of town.

Then the others came. Just a couple of them arrived at the gates. They seemed friendly at first and were invited in for a meal. They were invited to stay but said they had other friends to check on but that they might be back. That was the last they saw of them until one day, they returned from working on the farm and they were there in force. They had come in during the day, killed or captured everyone left behind, and waited for the others to return. There wasn’t much resistance as they were surprised and the marauders had planned the ambush carefully. After that, they were forced to work in the fields.

A few tried to escape early on but were summarily gunned down. They separated the men from the women knowing the men would never leave without their kids, spouses, or loved ones and vice versa. They would go out and bring in others from time to time. That’s the way it has been until we arrived.

The soldiers gathered just shake their heads. For the life of me, I can’t figure people out sometimes. I mean, a forced labor camp when we’re in the midst of this world changing event where our very survival is in jeopardy. How do they not see beyond their own noses? Seriously, wouldn’t it have been easier just working together? Once a bully, always a bully.

“Well, I guess I had better get back to the folks upstairs and tell them what’s up. I wouldn’t want anyone doing anything stupid. We have a couple of hotheads there,” he says rising after finishing his story.

“It’s a pleasure, Bob,” I say rising and extending my hand. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“I look forward to it,” he says taking my hand and heads to where the others are waiting. He passes Julie who has entered the gym and makes her way to sit by Bri. A soldier moves over for her. Julie doesn’t even look my way as she pulls Bri close and starts a whispered conversation. Robert rises and sits next to his mom. Silence descends on the group. Lynn looks my way with her eyes squinting in a quizzical manner. I merely raise a brow and shrug. Yeah, this is going to be interesting. Well, I’m just glad the kids have their mom back. I can’t even imagine the stress, worry, fear, and sorrow they’ve been keeping inside. Julie and the kids rise and start away from our little gathering. I can tell Julie is uncomfortable being around the others, especially seeing I’m a part of them and leading.

“Don’t go far,” I say to their retreating backs. Julie ignores me but Robert and Bri turn to give an, “Okay, Dad.”

We continue sitting on the cots, wary of our situation but feeling a little more secure than we were just a short time ago when the lights begin to flicker. It’s dim inside to begin with but it’s definitely a noticeable change. First, it’s just a quick flash of the lights going off and then back on. Then, they begin to flicker in earnest with the dark winning out over the light. The darkness comes in longer intervals casting the entirety of the gym in an inky blackness with short glows of light in between.

“Goggles on. Greg, take your team and cover the far doors and keep an eye on the entrance doors as well. Lynn, take Black and do the same for this end,” I say. Clicks of goggles being set in place are the only response.

“McCafferty, tell those up there that it’s just the generator powering this place running out of fuel,” I tell her over the radio.

“Will do, sir,” she replies.

I am hoping it’s just the generator going out and that the night runners haven’t figured out how to manipulate them or gnaw through electrical lines — that move will be a self-critiquing one for them if they do try something like that. The knowledge and ability to manipulate machinery wouldn’t bode well for us at all. The gym is plunged into darkness as the generator, or whatever caused the loss of power, gives up entirely. The murmuring that was prevalent before falls to an eerie silence. It’s the silence of knowing something is about to happen. Nothing moves in the green glow as we observe the area beyond our little hideout.

Only the slight rustle of cloth rubbing and boots squeaking on the hardwood floor is heard as team members shift positions. Not knowing where or when the night runners are going to come from is driving me crazy. There’s not a sound or sight of anything. I’m sitting with Lynn waiting for the first shriek of discovery. The thought that this could go on for an eternity, this worrying about night runners, is not a pleasant one and makes me even more tired than I already am. Is this to be our new life for all time - this sitting in wait and worrying about a night runner attack? This is definitely a different feeling than sitting all cozied up at Cabela’s with tall walls all around us. I’m going to have to accept that the night runners are now just a fact of life. Marauders of the type we just rescued the others from, well, I guess rescue isn’t the right word just yet, will unfortunately be a part of this world as well.

“McCafferty, any sign up there?” I ask.

“Nothing, sir. Quiet as can be,” she answers.

“Okay. Have everyone up there sit down in case any shooting starts and tell them to stay down if something does happen,” I say.

Copy that, sir,” she responds.

“What do you think?” I whisper to Lynn.

“I’m not sure. It seems like it may have just been a generator dying,” she answers.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say as the scream of a night runner faintly reaches inside. It sounds as if it’s coming from one of the campus buildings as before. It’s a reminder they are still out there.

“Sir?” I hear McCafferty say in my ear piece.

“Yeah, go ahead,” I answer.

“Um, there are several people here asking to go to the bathroom,” she says hesitantly.

“You’re kidding me,” I say. “Can’t they hold it a little longer?”

A pause ensues. “Well, there does seem to be some urgency with some,” she answers.

“Can’t they find a discreet location somewhere up there and just go?” I ask.

“There’s not really a lot of room up here,” McCafferty answers.

“Stand by,” I say. I look at Lynn and shrug as if to say ‘what the fuck do we do about that?’

“We could escort them into the bathrooms,” she suggests answering my shrug.

“Yeah, I’m not a big fan of that,” I say thinking the night runners are still up to something. I don’t like the idea of splitting our teams up nor having the others wandering about.

“What else are we going to do about it?” Lynn asks.

“Fuck, I don’t know. What is it with everyone having to go to the bathroom when I’m around?” I say.

“Maybe it’s your personality,” she says shrugging.

“Yeah, funny,” I reply. “Okay, take Black, secure the closest locker room and escort them. But Lynn, if anything happens, get back here. And I want you to be ready to come back on a moment’s notice if we need you in here.”

“We will, Jack,” Lynn says.

“Okay McCafferty. How many need to go?” I ask.

“Sixteen, sir,” she answers.

“Sixteen?! Really?!” I say shaking my head. “Okay, bring them down.”

“They’re on their way, sir.”

I lean over to Lynn and whisper, “It’s going to be crowded in there. Team integrity is your priority if something happens.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Jack?” Lynn asks. “Are you asking us to just leave them if something happens?”

“No, I’m saying get them out as best you can but if you are about to be overrun and can’t, well, there’s no fucking way we can hold this place with just Echo and Red. All will be lost if it comes down to that,” I say knowing it’s a harsh thing to say but the reality of the situation dictates. All because people have to go to the bathroom.

“Jack, that’s not what we are about — abandoning people. We are meant to defend them,” Lynn says adamantly.

“I know that Lynn. It’s about defending all people. If something does happen and you aren’t able to help, then we lose everyone,” I say hating the words coming out of my mouth. In all honesty, it’s a tough choice. Knowing you did the right thing but losing everyone in the process. There is no right choice but there is a lesser of two evils. I’m just not comfortable with Black Team being split off with all that has happened and only a few chained doors lying between us and a horde of night runners. The ones in ‘dire need’ arrive at the doors to the main gym led by Henderson and Denton. It’s pitch black to the others so they need to be guided down.

“Well, Jack, our guests have arrived. What do you want us to do?” Lynn asks. The question comes from her being uncomfortable with what I said about perhaps having to leave them.

“Take them and keep them safe but tell them if something happens then they are to stop what they’re doing and head back immediately. Laggers will be left behind,” I say wishing for a different situation.

“Okay, Jack,” she says and brings out her penlight to guide the others over.

She tells them to wait and heads out into the corridor with Black Team. They secure the locker room and guide everyone in. I keep Henderson and Denton with me to keep watch over the area. Silence continues to be our guest. Minutes pass.

“You hear or see anything, Lynn?” I ask.

“No, it’s all quiet here. Well, mostly quiet,” she answers with a chuckle.

They return several minutes later without any night runner interruption. The night passes with only the occasional shriek issuing from the darkness. The first faint light from the coming morning begins to show beyond the windows. One last loud howl is heard and the blackness of the night transitions to the gray-blue of morning. We have made it and now the outside is safer than the darkened buildings. We unchain the doors and the teams exit still wary of any marauders that might have also made it through the night. Cautious of an ambush, we set a perimeter around the main entrance — now exit — doors.

The clouds that were distant before now cover the once clear blue sky. It’s a light gray covering but it feels like it may bring rain later. The chill of the morning air tells me that summer is quickly winding down and fall is near. My eyes adjust to the morning light as I doff my NVG’s. Every muscle in my body aches and I become aware of some I didn’t even realize I had. My back and shoulders feel strained and every step is an effort. We do a check within the campus perimeter without going into the buildings. I have no idea what they have inside now that the night runners have access and I don’t intend to find out. I send Greg with Echo Team back to our previous hideout to bring the Humvees and gear back.

“What’s the plan for everyone? How do you plan on getting all of them back?” Lynn asks as I try to work the rest of the kinks out of my back.

“With those,” I answer pointing to the yellow school buses in the lot.

“Those’ll work,” she replies. I have everyone assemble in the parking lot. Gathered together, there are a lot more than I noticed last night.

“Listen up, everyone,” I shout above the heads. “We’ll be leaving here soon and everyone is welcome to come with us. We have a place set up in the old Cabela’s just north of Olympia. We’ll be using the school buses for transport and load up as soon as the others arrive.”

“What about our stuff?” One voice calls out from the crowd.

“Yeah, will you be heading to our places to pick up our things?” Another asks.

“No, we won’t be heading to each individual place to pick up belongings. We have what you need back at our base,” I shout answering. This creates a ruckus and various murmurings amongst the crowd.

“We should be able to go get our belongings and personal stuff,” one voice rises. Other voices say much the same thing but this is only from a few. The others in the lot are mostly quiet but I see a few nods of agreement with others shaking their heads.

“Look, we can’t risk going into darkened buildings. The risk of running into night runners is too great and…” I start to say.

“You can’t stop us from going,” a voice loudly interrupts.

“I’m sorry, did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours? In answer, I wouldn’t dream of stopping you. You are free to go your own way and do whatever you will. If you want to go get your stuff, it will be without our help. Sorry, but that’s the way it is. I’m not going to risk any of us going into dark structures. Feel free to do so if you want but I wouldn’t highly recommend it. Those of you who want to go with us, be ready to board the buses when the others arrive,” I say.

Silence descends for a moment as they digest this information. Then various murmurings occur. Some words of ‘this is ridiculous’ and ‘I thought they were here to help’ rise above the background noise. These are only some as I do hear many others voicing thanks and gratitude.

“Stop it. These folks have come and helped us and all you can do is bicker. If your stuff is that important to you, then go get it and don’t take these people’s hospitality. But at least thank them for giving you the freedom to voice your bickering’s. Seems to me you were a lot worse off yesterday. Go if you want, stay if you want but it seems to me you’d all be fools not to go along,” one voice shouts above the rest. This quiets the crowd and I look over to see Bob, standing with his hands on his hips, nodding after having said his piece.

The crowd quiets again. “Those who go will be expected to do his or her fair share of work and we have a basic training program which everyone is required to go through but anyone and everyone is free to go whenever they want. We don’t hold anyone against their will but there are rules to follow. I’m just saying because I want to be up front from the very get-go. But we do have food and shelter,” I say into the quiet.

“Those of you staying with us, please stay here in the parking lot. Those of you who want to head out on your own, well, I wish you the best of luck,” I add.

Most stay but there are a few who head out on their own. One apparent family heads off with the wife pleading and pointing in our direction. The man just shakes his head and plods steadily on. The little boy trailing behind looks back at us once and turns to catch up with his parents.

“Shouldn’t we do something?” Bri asks.

“What can we do, hon? We can’t force them to stay,” I answer.

I see Bob heading across the parking lot towards the family and pleading wife. He catches up and I see he is trying to talk them out of leaving. At least that is what it looks like to me. He is talking to the younger man, pointing at the woman and child and back in our direction. The voice of Bob and the younger man rise but the individual words are indistinguishable. It’s pretty obvious an argument of some sort is taking place. The scene has drawn the attention of the entire crowd.

The woman appears to be pleading but the man is not paying any attention to her and is intent on arguing with Bob. Bob yells, points to the woman, and back to the crowd. The man shakes his head and yells back. It’s pretty obvious the situation is getting a little out of hand but it’s just an argument. It’s not like it’s two gunfighters about to draw on each other. I begin to edge in that direction to try and simmer them down.

The woman sweeps her son behind her in a protective nature. With a last shout, Bob grabs the woman protectively about the shoulders and begins walking back with her and the child. The man reaches behind him and whips out a handgun. The crowd witnessing this altercation uniformly gasps. I stop and do a double-take not knowing how in the hell this man has a gun after being held captive.

He draws the gun up and fires. The resounding crack of the gunshot echoes across the parking lot. A pink mist forms in front of Bob. His head is thrust forward and he staggers a step, another, and then falls to the ground. The woman screams which rises above several other screams from the crowd. She looks down at Bob in shock and then back to her husband who is standing with the gun in his hand; a small wisp of smoke still streaming out of the barrel. He lowers his gun and shouts at her but the words are lost again.

She lets go of an agonizing scream, runs back to the man, and begins pummeling him on the arms and chest. The young boy just stands where his mother left him and stares at the body on the ground. The man tries to ward off her blows and finally shoves her away. She staggers back and turns toward her son.

“Say the word, sir,” I hear Gonzalez say by my side.

I look down and see her kneeling on the pavement sighting down a 110. Her, McCafferty, Henderson, Denton, and the rest of Black are also kneeling with their weapons trained on the man. I am standing with my red dot centered over his body. The man shouts again but she ignores whatever is said. I flip to the 4x setting on my scope and can see the uncertainty on his face. I have the feeling he is deciding whether to force them to go along or just head out on his own. Uncertainty while holding a gun is never a good thing. Anything can happen in that situation. He takes a step toward the woman.

“Drop the gun,” I shout.

I’m not certain he can hear what I said as I couldn’t hear any of his shouting words but he definitely hears the yell and looks our direction. He stops. Apparently seeing ten armed soldiers with weapons trained on him halts any notion he might have of going to the woman. Again that uncertain look materializes. With her son by her side, the woman stops and kneels next to the unmoving body of Bob. A resolute look comes over the man’s face and he takes another step towards his apparent wife and child. I seriously can’t believe we are in this situation and it boggles my mind that we are. It’s so out of the blue but here it is nonetheless.

“Gonzalez, one round on the ground in front of him if you would, please,” I say.

The loud clap of a 7.62mm round leaving the barrel fills the parking lot startling the gathered crowd. The echo of the shot covers the loud intakes of breath from many of them. A spark flares off the pavement of the entrance road just inches in front of the man’s foot as the round strikes hard and ricochets off into the distance. He may not be able to hear our words but there is no mistaking the communication we have just sent. The man jumps from the impact and the whining of the round as it is off to find another target.

I see the startle register on his face as he looks in our direction. Our eyes appear to meet in the scope. He looks to the woman and child and then back to us. The boy is looking at his dad and shies behind his mom. The woman, having been drawn up from weeping at the side of Bob by the sound of our shot, is looking over at the man.

I don’t want to shoot the man, especially in front of his son. Some people are just so driven by anger that it consumes them and leaves them with only that emotion. I’m guessing the forced captivity he endured built it up until it has to be released. But it’s obvious the woman doesn’t want to go with him and the man is volatile. I do not like this situation one bit! The man’s lips tighten and the muscles of his cheeks define more as he clenches his jaw in anger. His eyes narrow. Uh oh, I think trying to gauge his reaction. He looks to the woman and begins to raise the gun.

“Gonzalez,” I say with resignation.

Another loud but muted clap. This time the heavy caliber round isn’t issued as a warning. It streaks out with deadly purpose and closes the distance quickly. A splattering of blood sprays lightly into the air from just beside the nose. The large bullet flattens from the tremendous force and continues into the sinus cavity before rocketing out of the back of the head. The air is filled behind with a chunky mass of red tissue. The man falls hard to the ground on his side.

“Gonzalez, McCafferty, go see to the woman. Henderson, keep them covered,” I say bringing my M-4 down. The women rise and run to the woman and child.

“Okay, how the hell did he get a gun? Did we recover the guns from the guards inside?” I ask addressing Lynn.

“I’m guessing not,” she answers.

I shake my head. I should have taken their weapons but with everything happening, I didn’t get around to it. I feel like shit because this tragedy could have been avoided if I’d paid attention. Disarming a group of people should have been a natural thought but it just plain slipped mine. So many other things to do last night but I never thought to separate the people we were rescuing from any weapons; didn’t think about them using those weapons to harm others in the group. I should have considered of it nonetheless.

“It’s not your fault,” Lynn says seeing my downcast eyes and putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I say. “I should have at least thought about it.”

“Jack, that guy wasn’t right and it doesn’t matter if he had the gun or not. He would have found something to use and we’d still be facing the same situation except without your guilt trip happening,” she replies.

“Anyone else armed,” I say looking up and shouting to the group. One hand raises skyward.

“Lynn,” I say nodding toward the young gentleman with his arm in the air. She advances and retrieves another handgun.

McCafferty and Gonzalez arrive at the woman and child, put their arms around them, and guide them back to the group. They return after making sure there is someone to look after the woman and child. They mention that the woman was Bob’s daughter. They noted there were some ‘he had it coming to him’ and similar comments. The sound of vehicles approaching stirs the air. I see the Humvees driving by the far end of the field and they soon enter the parking lot now having to drive around the two bodies in the entryway.

“That looks like it was an interesting story,” Greg says stepping out of the vehicle parked close by. Lynn shakes her head as if to say ‘it’s not the right time or place.’ She takes Greg to the side and catches him up on our recently transpired events.

“There are some seriously stupid people in the world,” Greg says as his only response.

I make contact with the base and catch Drescoll up on our situation. I ask if he feels like he can do without one additional team and to send them our way with some transport vehicles. He says they were just holding down the fort for the day and they would be on their way shortly. I ask the crowd to start loading into the school buses. Several people from the crowd break off and find a tarp over by the stadium. They return, wrap Bob’s body up in it, and place it on one of the buses. Robert and Bri walk with Julie. I see them talking by the front door of one of the vehicles. Well, it looks like it’s mostly Julie talking and Robert and Bri shaking their heads. After more talking and shaking of heads, they hug and Julie gets on the first bus. Robert and Bri walk back and sit by Gonzalez and McCafferty. The others load into two school buses and I send Greg and Echo Team back with them as an escort. I let Drescoll know he’ll have company soon. I would wait until the transports arrive but don’t want Drescoll to be short-handed for long as this has taught us a valuable lesson; there are threats other than the night runners about.

The buses leave with two of the Humvees and, after Greg and Echo Team pull the remains out of the way, head out of the downed gate. A chill wind starts blowing across the lot. The rest of us, Red and Black Team, gather by the remaining vehicles and watch the area. I have seen neither hide nor hair of anyone since last night but that doesn’t mean some of the marauders didn’t make it and are still around.

Lynn and I are standing a little off from the others. Robert and Bri are with the other team members telling war stories or exchanging recipes. I’m not sure which as the hand motions could mean either one and they’re too far away to hear.

“So, what do you think about heading out when Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie Teams return and try to find out about the soldiers’ families?” I ask during a moment of quiet.

Lynn pauses for a moment, no doubt thinking of her own family. “What brought that about, Jack?” She finally asks.

“Well, a couple of things actually. One, we’ve been helping out those I know and my family for the most part. I just thought it fair to see about the others as well. We don’t have that long until the jet fuel degrades to the point where we’ll be earthbound and the weather will be setting in soon,” I say looking at the overcast sky.

“Well, Jack, we still have a lot to do but I think the others will appreciate an effort. We’ve been so busy setting everything up and focusing on survival that I think that thought has been pushed down for a lot of them but it will surface eventually,” she answers without really answering.

“That’s my thought as well. So, what do you think?”

“I think we see what we have to do, prioritize, and if we can, then bring it up. If we do go, that will draw away a lot of our teams. I’d like to see us get a few more through training first so we have some semblance of a force ready to deal with things in case something like this,” she answers encompassing the area with a swing of her arm, “occurs again.”

“Yeah, you’re right but we can’t wait long. The weather will set in soon and our chance will vanish with it. It’s not that we can’t fly in it but getting down might not be so easy. I’m not a fan of flying without weather reports and there won’t be anyone to keep the runways clear,” I say.

“Let’s talk about it at our next group meeting,” she says and goes silent.

I know I shouldn’t have brought it up as it has made her think of her own family. I can certainly stick my foot in my mouth sometimes. I look over at Robert and Bri chatting it up with Gonzalez and McCafferty. I am so thankful they are okay and I feel a warm flush of love flood my heart. They are the world to me and I’ll go to any length to see them safe. That warm flush is mixed with a touch of concern though. Seeing the makeshift splint on Bri’s arm reminds me of the same old quandary; keep them safe yet let them get experience and learn. This isn’t the same as watching them drive a car for the first time and letting them stall it out.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say quietly.

“What do you mean?” Lynn asks coming out of her thoughts. I thought I had said that to myself but apparently not.

“I was just thinking about the kids. I don’t know what to do with them. Training is one thing but how much do I let them actually participate and get experience,” I say.

“Jack, they’ve done very well in training. I don’t rightly know how to answer that for you but face it, you’re not going to be around forever, Jack, and they have to learn,” she says watching them with me.

“You’ve changed your tune. But what is the right amount of participation? That’s the one that has me stuck,” I reply.

“I don’t know that there is a right answer to that one. Robert has seen a lot of action and he has done well but you know anything can happen at any time regardless of the where or what. I’m afraid you’re on your own with this one,” she answers.

“Yeah, thanks,” I respond.

Movement in my peripheral catches my attention and I whip around bringing my M-4 up. Lynn, seeing me move like that, turns, and just as quickly, goes to her knee with her weapon ready. I see three people walking slowly across the far end of the parking lot by the auditorium. They freeze at our movement.

“You over there,” I call out. “Hands where I can see them and walk slowly over.”

The raise their arms and begin walking toward us. I see in my peripheral that my shout has caught the attention of the others and they are kneeling by the vehicles or sighted across them. I turn quickly and check out behind us in case this is a ruse but see nothing.

“Red Team, keep a watch behind us,” I shout over to where they are focused on the three walking. They begin scanning the surrounding area.

The three make their way across the parking lot. As they approach, I see that one is the driver of the red truck I had in my sights. The picture of Bri and her injured arm enters. My anxiety and a rush of adrenaline are quickly replaced with growing anger. I told you that fear turns to anger when a situation stabilizes somewhat. My red dot is firmly placed on his head and my finger tightens on the trigger. Lynn senses the change in my aura and glances over to see my finger wrapped firmly around the trigger. She reaches out and touches my arm.

“Jack?” She asks as if to ask what’s wrong.

“That’s the driver of the red truck,” I answer. I haven’t released the pressure on the trigger but I haven’t tightened it further either.

“Jack, let’s see what they have to say first,” Lynn says but keeps her hand on my arm.

“I’m not really that interested in hearing anything except my round leaving the chamber,” I reply.

“Jaaaack,” Lynn says.

“Okay, fine,” I say releasing a little pressure. They draw within twenty feet. The two on the outside are clearly fearful but the one in the middle, the driver, is scowling. Not exactly his best move ever.

“That’s far enough. Kneel with your hands on your heads,” I tell them. The two do as I say immediately but the driver continues to stand although with his hands on his head.

“Get your ass down while you still have the choice of standing,” I say with a growl. This man ran my kids off the road and hurt my little girl. My patience and tolerance of him is not at an all-time high.

“You’d best do what he says asshole. He’s not in a very good mood. Now get down,” Lynn calls out.

He slowly sinks down to his knees on the pavement. His glower doesn’t let up though. I know this type; headstrong and not much else. He doesn’t like to take guff from anyone and the fact that it came from a woman doesn’t sit too well with him. He’ll try to maintain what he considers his manliness to the bitter end. I’m also guessing he has a thing with authority. I don’t know about you but if I have someone with a gun pointing at me and telling me to get to my knees, I may not like it but I’m not so weary of this world that I’m in a rush to leave it. Well, maybe a little but there are the kids and Lynn to think of. I’m kinda fond of being around them.

I rise and head to within five feet of them. Not so close that they can lunge but close enough that the hole at the end of my barrel looks mighty large. Funny how intimidating such a small hole can be. The hands of the man kneeling to my left are shaking. The driver stares straight into my eyes with a deep set anger. He’s a bully, although a dangerous one, and doesn’t like his situation one bit. He will wait and look for the first opportunity — that I know.

“Care to share your story?” I ask.

“Well, mister, we were….” the man on the right starts up but is silenced by a look from the driver.

“You killed our friends in cold blood,” the driver says still glaring.

So, that’s how it’s going to be. Take the offensive. Make yourself right. Honestly, I don’t see how this tactic will work but I have time to kill before the transports arrive.

“Really! So I suppose that justifies you holding those people against their will, kidnapping others, and forcing them to be your slaves,” I say nonchalantly.

“They were weak and needed someone to take charge to make them stronger; to be able to survive,” he counters.

“And you consider running people off the road and kidnapping them to be helping them huh? You just wanted to make them stronger, is that it?”

“We were helping these people and you have no right to hold us here,” he says.

“You mean like you were holding the other people against their will. You mean like that? You do understand your life is hanging by a very thin thread right now?” I say.

“Only the strong will survive in this world. It’s always been that way,” he says.

“This world has no place for the likes of you. You’ll apologize to my daughter for hurting her you before you leave,” I state.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he replies.

I pull my Beretta out and place it close to his forehead. Not directly against his head mind you. Placing the barrel of your gun against something hard and pulling the trigger is not a good way to keep your gun in one piece. A little distance keeps the slide attached to the gun and keeps it from slamming into your face. Over-pressurization of the barrel and chamber does nasty, nasty things to a gun.

“You might seriously want to rethink that answer,” I say holding my hand steady.

Lynn steps up and places her hand on my arm. “Jack, he’s unarmed,” she says drawing me away.

“This world doesn’t need people like him in it,” I counter.

“But killing an unarmed man when he’s surrendered isn’t right even if you don’t like him,” she says. “You know that.”

“You’d better listen to your bitch,” the driver says. Lynn’s lips tighten and her blue eyes blaze with anger. I could think of no way to leave this world quicker than to utter those exact words to Lynn. This man must have a death wish.

The subdued crack of a gun booms across the otherwise silent lot. The driver’s throat sprouts a bright blossom of blood which sprays both men kneeling beside him. His hands fall to his ruined throat attempting to stop the damage already done. He gurgles once and slumps forward to the ground; his head hitting the pavement with a crack. Blood quickly fans out to either side; so thick the breeze causes ripples across its surface. I lower my 9mm with a wisp smoke still trailing out of the suppressor.

Lynn lowers her M-4. “Jack?”

“I beat you to it,” I say.

“How did you know….” she says with her voice trailing off.

She realizes we know each other so well that I knew what she was going to do and did it myself. I knew she would agonize more over her action than I would so I shot him first. I didn’t want her to get caught up in her own guilt. I knew I’d get over it much quicker; so much so that I’m already over it. Well, maybe not altogether as I’ll ponder whether I did the right thing from time to time.

The radio squelches with an incoming call. “Everything alright, sir?” Gonzalez asks.

“We’re good here, thanks,” I answer.

I look at the other two kneeling on the ground alternating their stares from the body of their comrade and the bloody pool, now slowly streaming as the lowest parts of the pavement dictate, to us. They are obviously scared.

“You have twenty seconds to be out of my sight,” I say.

“Take us with you,” the one with the shaking hands says.

“Yeah, I don’t think so and you’d best use the fifteen seconds remaining to you wisely,” I reply.

There is no hesitation as the two rise and start running across the lot toward the downed fence line. I shake my head as I watch them bolt across the pavement, out of the gate, and down the road. There’s a definite surreal quality to the events of the past few days. I mean marauders, night runners, and having to rescue our own from our own backyard. I’m ready to wake up now.

“This is like the Wild West stories; handing out justice at the end of a gun,” Lynn says.

“He did have it coming. He practically begged for it and to be honest, I’m a little jealous,” I reply thinking he doesn’t have to deal with this messed up world anymore.

“I’m not saying he didn’t. It’s just, well, fuck, I don’t know exactly,” she responds.

“Lynn, truly, what were we to do? Take him back and lock him up? We don’t have the facilities or manpower to do something like that. And lock him up for how long? If we let him go, he would have just continued in a similar manner as before. Think about the ones who left to try it on their own. He would have found them. We probably saved a soul or two as he was a dangerous sort,” I say trying to make some sense of it.

“I know all of that, Jack. But where do we start and end with it? Do we just go around dispensing justice to those who think differently or don’t agree with us?” She asks.

I can tell she is having a hard time with the outright shooting of someone, especially as they were unarmed. I know she has no qualms whatsoever in battle or if someone is endangering those around her. I am honestly having a hard time with it as well. What is the line? To me, if they represent a danger to our survival, the answer is clear.

“We’ll just have to deal with it as it comes I guess. I don’t think there’s a right answer here. At least not yet,” I say.

“Yeah, true. Let’s start getting those portable lights so we can get out of here when the transports arrive,” she says coming out of whatever hole she climbed into momentarily.

We gather the lights and long cords that led to a number of generators placed around the field and wait. Waiting makes me feel like a seven-year old on a family road trip — are we there yet? I want to get back to base and figure our next steps out. I feel the exhaustion set in. The post adrenaline and time awake is taking its toll. The chill of the morning air gives way to a warmer but humid mid-morning. The transports arrive and we start the laborious process of loading them up.

We arrive back in our own compound. It feels like weeks since I left but it is in fact just a matter of days. The place, although similar, has undergone and is still undergoing quite a few changes. I see people out in the grass fields to the south working on fencing. A lot of fences have gone up in the fields and a large concrete slab sits next to the parking lot to the north. They’ve been busy. The school buses are parked next to the other Humvee and transport trucks.

We help offload and then it’s time for rest. My muscles are still screaming their protest from the night prior and I feel the fogginess of no sleep settle in. Inside, the compartments Bannerman had constructed for quarters are complete. Bannerman and Frank are talking with the new arrivals to the side and I assume arranging places for them. We now have close to two hundred people with us. Lynn’s going to be quite busy with her training. I trudge upstairs past the congregation, find my cot, and collapse.

I finally awaken and spend a little time with the kids on the roof. The clouds have thickened and promise rain soon. A chill breeze blows across the rooftop but it’s nice to spend the time with them and I’m thankful we are able to do so. We chat for a while and head down earlier than we normally would as there is no glorious sunset to send the day off with. Robert and Bri eat and chat with Julie during our dinner and our leadership group meets afterwards. It seems like longer since we’ve met as the enormity of events over the past few days makes it seem like more time has passed.

I start by giving a synopsis of our little outing to catch everyone up on my side. Bannerman then relates the events here.

“We’ve started the fences and such for the livestock as I’m sure you saw upon your arrival. I expect we’ll be finished with those sometime tomorrow. We’ve also poured foundations for several large greenhouses. I found quite a few big ones at various nurseries that can be dismantled and carted easily. We can start bringing in any livestock that are left within the next couple of days. Building barns and stables will be next but with the amount of people we have to help now, that should be short work,” he reports.

“Nicely done! What about Watkins and the teams getting the windmill?” I ask.

“They report they’re able to remove the turbine and truck it north in pieces. They should actually be finished there in the next day or so,” Drescoll says.

“The challenge will be to engineer a solution for the water pump,” Bannerman adds. “But we’ll figure something out.”

“Good. How about supplies?” I ask.

“Well, we’ve gathered quite a few and have hit most of the stores around here and cleared out quite a few of them. To be honest, with this greater influx of people, we should start thinking bigger, Jack. We have enough food to get us through but feeding two hundred people a day will hit us pretty hard. Plus, there is a storage problem with that many. I worked in supply for a while so I know about that,” Bannerman says.

“So what are you suggesting?” Lynn asks.

“Well, first, we should be hitting any distribution centers in the area. They’ll have anything the stores have but in much greater quantities. Plus, I talked with Frank here and we think the there’s a chance that the security of the distribution centers should be in effect limiting any night runner activity inside. They are also usually built away from heavily populated areas. I think we should grab all we can, load them into trucks and haul them back. As far as storage, well, we should also grab shipping containers. They have some that are refrigerated as well,” Bannerman answers.

“Let’s not forget about hospital and medical equipment either,” Drescoll chimes in.

“They’ll have a lot of basic medical supplies plus meds for the pharmacies,” Bannerman replies.

“But I mean more of hospital equipment, you know, tables, and stuff like that,” Drescoll clarifies.

“Yeah, we’re going to need items like that as well. With the influx of people, and I think we’ll see more as time goes on, we’ll have to think about housing for all of them. It’s getting a little crowded here using this for storage and housing,” Frank adds.

All of these ideas and suggestions being thrown out are taking a toll on my psyche. Still so much to do and each will take time and resources. I’m pretty much done being in charge now and I’d like to go home. These are all valid points but it’s a matter of putting them into a priority basis. The problem is that all seem to have an equal priority. Food, water, and shelter remain high on the list. We have winter coming which means much shorter days and we aren’t in a position to be self-sufficient as yet. One thing is certain and that is we’ll have to have the barns, stables, greenhouses, and other buildings for the livestock in place before winter sets in.

“Well, I think we continue with the building of the fences and structures for food supplies. Horses are a great idea as who knows if we’ll be able to manufacture bio-fuels and the bio-fuels will only provide for the diesel-powered equipment. However, even with that available, we won’t have manufacturing to replace broken equipment although we can scrounge for quite a while longer in that area. As far as the rest, I’ve had a couple of thoughts in mind and want to throw those out and see what everyone thinks,” I say.

“I see we have two choices as far as a permanent residence goes. We can stay here and build what we need, apartment buildings, storage, water towers, and such or we can begin fortifying the Fort Lewis and McChord areas. Seal them off as we did here, remove the night runners from within, and move up. We’d have to start off by sealing off and clearing smaller areas like the housing, armories, vehicle storage and maintenance areas, and the hospital,” I continue.

There’s a silence as everyone ponders the idea. “I’ve honestly thought along those lines as well,” Bannerman finally says. “There are advantages and disadvantages to that. The disadvantages are fairly obvious I think. It’s mostly about clearing those areas. We’d have to have the manpower to do it and keep it clear. Time and resources as you put it.”

“But we’d basically have a functioning city if we could do it,” Drescoll says.

“Keeping it clear and patrolling that vast of an area sounds like it would suck up all of our resources if we could even clear it sufficiently,” Lynn chimes in.

“We’d have to take it in stages and base out of here while we were doing it,” I say. “Then we could keep this area as our food supply although there are enough open areas up there to do that as well.”

“It’s ambitious, I’ll give you that but if we could do it, I think it would be worth it,” Greg says.

“Everything is already in place there. The advantages I see are that the power is in place. Bases were meant to be self-sufficient in that and other regards. We’d have tools, storage, and armories right there. Plus, they already have the water tower in place. We could have a large field of those wind turbines by the airfield and vast arrays of solar panels. There are also fuel depots we could utilize. The disadvantages, like Lynn mentioned, are keeping the night runners out and patrolling. And clearing it to begin with. That will be a major undertaking in and of itself,” Frank says.

“Even putting the night runners aside, I think we may be able to keep them out like we’ve done here, but marauders will be a different story. We don’t, and I don’t foresee us having, enough to keep the entire area patrolled. We could be easily infiltrated,” Lynn replies.

“How many of those concrete wall parts are still in place up north?” I ask.

“I see where you’re going with that and I think there are still miles of them left according to the teams that were up there. I don’t think we’ll have a problem finding enough,” Bannerman answers.

“So what about starting with the housing and hospital and go from there?” I ask.

“Probably feasible and we could have the walls up in a short time with all of the help we have,” Bannerman again answers.

“Will that affect the work started around here?” Robert asks. All heads turn in his direction as this is about his first utterance in one of our meetings. I wanted him and Bri in them to learn and by his question, he has done just that.

“I don’t see a problem with that. We’ll have a learning curve but we should be fine,” Bannerman responds.

“Okay, so we find and hit a distribution center, or centers, train some to drive semi’s and bring back shipping containers, continue to build the livestock facilities and greenhouses, and start putting the walls up around the hospital and housing areas up north. Sounds easy,” I say with my head starting to bleed from all of it.

“That will put us mighty thin on the teams,” Lynn adds.

“Yeah, we’ll need a team to escort the trucks hauling the containers. I want them to convoy with a team of Humvees for protection. We’ve at least learned that from recent days. Any traveling group will have the top guns manned at all times. Then at least one team for the crews gathering the concrete walls, and one for the group setting them in place. One team for the night watch and one on standby. That leaves three teams to help with supply runs. That does leave us pretty thin. When will the first training class be finished?” I ask turning to Lynn.

“Well, the first class is almost through phase 1. Phase two will take a couple weeks following. Then we can begin the next group,” Lynn answers.

“The distribution centers will have to be an all-out effort once the storage containers are in place then,” I say. “I’m sure we’ll find plenty of empty containers in the Seattle shipping yards. Will three teams be enough for you Bannerman?”

“Should be. There are a few things Frank and I have thought about getting but some of the others can get them without having to go into buildings; or at least the dangerous ones,” he answers.

“So, do we have enough supplies now that we won’t have to ‘shop’ around here?” I ask.

“I think we’ll have to make some more runs but not many,” he answers.

“Okay. There’s one other thing I wanted to bring up. That is taking time to search for the families of soldiers. If we decide to do it, we’ll have to do it soon; before winter sets in and before the fuel goes bad. I think it’s only fair to them to at least have an answer. I’m also thinking there could be some who might leave to find out on their own if we don’t,” I say.

“How would we do that with us already stretched thin?” Greg asks.

“Well, I was thinking when we could take a small break in operations. Like maybe after the shipping containers were brought in or after we hit the distribution centers. We’d have to set a time limit and any families we go looking for would have to reside within a set distance from a military airfield,” I answer.

“I, for one, think it’s a great idea if we can afford the manpower. How many Humvees can the 130 take?” Greg says.

“Two to three depending on how we load them. I would think two with the teams we’ll be taking depending on how many want to go. I envision each place will take two days. One for air travel and one for driving to and back,” I answer.

“We should bring it up to the soldiers,” Frank says.

“Okay, so tomorrow, let’s start our truck driving institute and carry on with the fences and buildings. We’ll start on operations after they’ve become proficient and after Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie return. In the meantime, we can also expand our search for any other survivors. My thought is to use the helicopter to fly over an area and make a loudspeaker broadcast identifying a rally point for at a set day and time. We can use the school buses to meet in a mall parking lot or other such places we locate. I think we’ll use the three teams who aren’t on fence and convoy duty and set up a perimeter at each rescue site just in case we call on someone who has different ideas other than being rescued. Each day we can cover a different area. Anyone have any questions?” I ask.

“I like that plan. Where will we start looking for others?” Drescoll asks.

“I’ll leave that up to Frank. If we have any maps of the area, we can designate areas to cover and mark them off afterwards,” I answer.

“I’ll start looking at them when we finish here,” Frank replies.

“Any further questions or thoughts?” I ask.

There aren’t any replies and we break for the evening. I’m still tired and I feel a headache coming on so I sit and chat with Lynn for a while. Robert is off with Michelle and Bri with Julie. The interior settles down for the night. It’s comforting inside not having to listen to the perpetual banging of night runners trying to get in. I ease off into dreamland.

She wakes the next night conscious of the many around her. Many had lost their pack leaders and joined her but several pack leaders joined as well. Still aware of the tickle across her mind the night before, she heads out with her pack. There is still food available where the other two-legged laired and she will start the night’s hunt there. She hopes the other two-legged ones haven’t recovered and are defending their lair as they had before.

She trots through the darkened town with a drizzle starting to fall. The wet slaps of feet behind let her know the others are following. The wet will dampen the ability to find prey to an extent but she isn’t worried. She has more mouths to find food for but the young one riding along with her is the most important. She knows a couple of other females in her pack are also carrying young ones. The gray shapes of various buildings pass by as she heads up a steep hill on her way to observe the two-legged one’s lair.

She senses a couple of other smaller packs prowling the neighborhoods she passes. She sees the compound and halts. The lights that once bathed the perimeter in their glow are gone. The tall structures by the fence are empty and the air is free of their scent. She cautiously edges forward. There is no resounding bang of a gunshot or cry of alarm as there had been in previous nights when she ventured close.

She trots around the fenced area to the place it was brought down last night and enters the lair. There is one of the two-legged lying on the ground by the entrance. The sniffs the air and catches a faint scent but it is an old one. The drizzle has vanquished most of the smell but it’s still there. She doesn’t smell anything fresh or recent. With a look around to check for movement, she begins feeding. The males let the ones carrying young to feed first. Some are eager but she sends a quick message and they back off. The others find another lying on the ground nearby and set in.

Sated, she rises and guides the pack to where there is a smell of old blood. In the rooms of the building, her pack feeds on the remnants of bodies that were torn apart in some fashion. She remembers the mighty explosion the night prior and knows she found the aftermath. The why or how still eludes her but she is content that the pack won’t have to hunt all night for food.

She trots with several of her pack to the round building where the other two-legged ones laired. There’s no sign or scent of them. They have gone. She remembers almost ‘hearing’ the one and is intrigued. Well, intrigued is not perhaps the right word but she is curious and, for some reason, feels a pull towards that one. I guess that does mean intrigued. Perhaps it’s that she could almost communicate or understand that one. It was a new and different sensation but she also knows that the two-legged ones are dangerous and will shoot on sight. She has her pack and young one to think of.

She enters the building and finds more food for her pack inside. They will eat well tonight. The old scent of the others that were here is stronger making her a little more cautious but she hears nothing that indicates they are still around. Entering a large room, she looks up and sees another room overlooking. If she could smile or knew what that was, she would for there is the perfect lair. No light during the day will reach there and it’s big enough for all of them to sleep. She has found a new lair for them.

As they settle into their new place, her thoughts momentarily stray towards the one that was here and then trickles back to her young one. Their new lair is warm and they are all fed. She rubs her stomach gently and is content.

I wake early the next morning and head out with the rest of the teams for training. My muscles aren’t quite as sore and my back seems to be talking with me again. Well, at least acknowledging me if not outright friendly. Others begin making their way out into the drizzly morning heading off to the fields surrounding our haven. The clouds overhead are a darker shade of gray that promises more rain before the end of the day. Or, this being the Northwest, it could be minutes away. It’s a light training morning and we are soon finished. We head for the showers and a change of clothing. I know I am in dire need of one if the odor that seems to be following me around is any indication.

Feeling somewhat refreshed, the teams separate into tasks that Bannerman has assigned. The sound of the few semi’s we have parked outside cranking up filters inside denoting that the truck driving institute’s first class is about to begin. I check in with Frank to see where he wants to begin our search. He has chosen the south end of Olympia. I doubt we’ll find anyone as they should have heard our activities and filtered our way by now. Our burning endeavors didn’t extend that far and we haven’t been through the area as yet so it’s as good a place as any.

The ever-present headache is accompanying me as I head out to the helicopter to warm it up. Robert is accompanying me and I will switch the days off with Bri, when her arm is better, giving them somewhat of a lesson as we go. Yeah, like I’m remotely ready to give lessons but you only have to be one step ahead of those you teach. Frank has chosen the Capital Mall as a rallying point for any survivors and we plan on an afternoon meeting given it is so close.

The rotors come up to speed in a circular blur overhead and we lift off into the drizzle. The downwash of the blades keeps the windshield clear as we head over the brown fields where people are pounding metal fence poles into the ground. Several look up as we pass over. I rock the Kiowa as best I can to say hi. We head to the south end of town. The paper-strewn streets of downtown pass below. Memories surface of times out with the kids for dinner or my occasional foray into the town for a drink or two. That’s all the streets and town holds now — memories. Well, that and night runners.

I search for any barricaded locations that will indicate people are still surviving. I think the best place to search will be the residential districts but the night runners have proven to be quite innovative and it would be difficult for anyone to completely barricade a house against them. Still we pass over the forlorn housing areas and send our broadcast.

“Any survivors, we offer food, shelter, and protection. Meet at the Capital Mall at 3pm. If you can’t make that, we are located at Cabela’s. Any survivors….”

It’s still pretty early in the morning and that should give them enough time to get there by whatever means of transportation they have available. I mean, there is plenty just lying about. Of course, getting keys if you don’t know how to hotwire could be a tricky endeavor. We don’t see anyone exit the houses but cover the entire southwestern side before heading over to the warehouse district. It’s here that I would think people would more likely be able to hole up. We broadcast our message and head south to cover Tumwater.

I let Robert fly some but make sure we have a little more altitude. We can’t go too high as I don’t want to lose contact with the ground but high enough so that we won’t contact the ground immediately. I’m not proficient enough to recover should we decide to do a maneuver that alters the flight characteristics of the helicopter. Yes, that means out of control. We start off like a small skiff bucking high seas but he eventually gets the hang of it. By getting the hang of it, I mean like I did when I first began. That means we aren’t about to test the theory that the ground is harder than an aircraft nor are we in jeopardy of hitting inanimate objects.

The areas we cover give the same picture; streets filled with scraps of paper, parked cars, seemingly empty buildings with their dark windows staring back. With the gray skies and drizzle coming down, it truly looks like an alien world. Like ours but with the lack of movement or people about. It has a very depressing nature about it. It makes me thankful that it’s not like some books I’ve read where there is only one person left. Nice to think about but it would absolutely suck. We are social creatures by nature, with exceptions, and the lack of social interaction would drive anyone crazy in a short period of time.

We finish with the east side of town and overfly some of the outlying areas. We broadcast but the extra flying is to give Robert some stick time. He’ll be starting phase two of his training shortly and I want to give him whatever training I can while we are able. After he and Bri finish with that training, I’ll also be taking them out for some additional training. Bri brought that up again last night during our evening time together. Her arm seems to be healing to a degree now that she has a proper splint on it. She’ll be able to attend the class part of her training and thankfully that is mostly what phase two involves with some walk-throughs of what they learned.

We head up north to refuel and make our way back to the base. We spot several trucks on the Interstate, with their accompanying Humvee escort, as the drivers continue their training. The drizzle has turned to rain as we land in the parking lot, the wash from our rotors driving sheets off the pavement. I make a mental note to change out our helicopter after tomorrow’s flight. I have no idea what maintenance is required per flight hour with these, or really anything else for that matter, and I’m not into finding that answer the hard way.

The parking lot is empty as we make our way inside. I brief Frank on the areas we covered and grab a bite to eat. It’s early afternoon and Lynn is getting the teams ready to rendezvous at the mall. I don’t expect much but at least it’s a start. We should be able to cover a wide area before Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie teams arrive back. Then, it’ll be a busy time again. Bannerman informs me that Watkins and the others are having a more difficult time getting parts of the wind turbine taken down and loaded. They’ll be a few more days at least. They report that it’s been quiet around them in regards to both people and night runners. Their food and water is holding out but he notes they should have brought more clothing. I can only imagine what the inside of the Strykers are like at night.

Lynn gathers her Black Team along with Horace’s Blue Team. I hope that’s not an ominous sign — Black and Blue Teams. I am taking Red Team. Outside, the rain brings that smell that a first rain brings; the smell of freshness. The plants and trees give off their scents of joy in response to the refreshing water. I am not as joyous with the rain as I’m not particularly fond of getting wet. I’ve lived in the Northwest long enough to get my fair share so if I were to give off a scent, and I do often, it would be more one of dread and yuck. I wonder what smell hunkering down and trying to pull your collar over your head gives off. We board the buses and, along with three Humvees, start the progression south.

The rain lightly pounds against the metal roof and comes in through the top hatch. We have the gun manned so the warmth and shelter from the downpour one expects in a car is sorely lacking. Our tires purr on the wet highway. We come to the slight blockage of cars as we near the hospital off ramp and pass slowly by. Streaks of water pour off their windshields and rear windows. Some, with their windows down, absorb the water inside. It won’t be too long before these become rusted heaps in the road. The salt air and constant rain of winter will see to that in short order. That’s why we’ll have to get the secure areas in place around the vehicle depots at Fort Lewis soon; so we can park as many vehicles as we can indoors.

We pull off the freeway and make our way through the main boulevards until we reach the mall and park by the main entrance. I note the broken glass doors in front. The hair on my arm and neck come to attention as I know what that means or at least think I do. Night runners are inside. It could be from people scavenging but I’m not really interested in finding out for sure right now. We make sure to stay a distance away from the doors just in case it happens to be a marauder home. I radio base and leave a message for Frank to annotate this as possible night runner location.

We have arrived a little early and don’t sight anyone in the lot. Lynn sets a perimeter with her and Horace’s teams. The Humvees are parked in a circle around the buses with Henderson, Denton, and McCafferty manning the M-240’s on top. The rain lets up and a hole opens above us sending beams of sunlight down onto the paved surface. Wisps of steam rise slowly from where the sunlight strikes the wet surface. The day isn’t cold but warm and humid. Stifling almost but the sunlight feels good. The cooler rain felt good at first but that quickly passed.

Lynn is on top of a Humvee surveying the area with a pair of binoculars. A flock of crows heads across the lot on their way to a destination only they know. They rise above a line of trees marking the south end of the large lot surrounding the mall and are lost from sight.

“Anything?” I call out. She shakes her head and continues her surveillance. Lynn gives note of a pack of dogs trotting up one of the streets nearby but that is all she calls out. The minutes pass without seeing a soul.

“There’s someone coming up the road on a bicycle,” Lynn calls out startling us from our reveries. It’s not that we aren’t paying attention; it’s just that our thoughts meander when we’re still for a period of time.

“Wait, there’s a couple more behind also on bikes. They just rounded the corner,” she adds.

We turn in the direction she is pointing and see four people pedaling with effort up a short hill leading to the mall. They see us parked in the lot and stop. The person in front points us out to the others as they catch up. They start off again heading in our direction. It soon becomes clear that it’s a man, a woman, and two children, if children is the right word. They look to be in their early to mid-teens. They pull up at the edge of the lot and the man pedals forward.

“Are you the ones who gave the announcement earlier?” The man asks. I can tell he is wary by the way he left what is apparently his family at a distance. Not that it would do any good seeing we have vehicles but it’s a cautious move nonetheless.

“Yeah. Nice to see someone else has made it. I’m Jack,” I call out.

“I’m Calvin. Well, people call me Cal,” he shouts back. He doesn’t make a move toward us but stays in place straddling his bike.

“You’re welcome to join us, have a bite to eat, or just chat. You and the others with you won’t be harmed,” I say.

I see some hesitation but he lays his bike down, points to the others telling them to stay put, and walks into our circle. We shake hands and introductions are made. Gonzalez brings over a MRE and hands it to Cal. He tells us of their story of barricading their second story apartment and surviving night after night of night runners. He doesn’t use the term night runners but picks up on it as we mention it. Each day was filled with scrounging what they could from the corner marts and gas stations and repairing any damage to their fortifications.

We give a short version of our experiences in return. He waves his family over following and we are introduced to Janet, his wife, Peter, his fourteen-year old son, and Mary, his seventeen-year old daughter. They each take a MRE and devour the contents in no time flat. They agree to come with us as the thought of shelter without the nightly attacks is very much agreeable to them. Cal tells us it was only a matter of time for them and they feel lucky to have made it this far. There were a few others holding out in the same complex but they were overrun a while ago. As far as they know, they are the only ones left.

His conversation is interrupted by the sound of a vehicle approaching. A blue king cab pickup truck pulls into the lot with people piled in the bed. They pull to a stop just outside of our circle and seven people exit from the bed and interior. Again, introductions are made and we find that they are group of people that came upon each other while foraging and holed up in an aircraft hangar during the night.

The afternoon passes without a sign of anyone else. That’s all we find on this first outing; eleven people but that’s more than I expected. Cal and his family, along with some of the others who rode in the bed, board one of the buses. Simon, the driver of the truck, does not want to part with his truck so he drives behind the buses as we make our way back to Cabela’s. I inform Drescoll of our find and he passes it along to Bannerman and Frank.

Bannerman is present at the entrance to greet the newcomers as the bus pulls under the covered entrance. The rain has started again and we trudge through puddles after parking our vehicles in the lot. The crews working in the fields make their way through the mud and grass. I note the semi’s parked in a row on one side of the lots having apparently finished with the day’s training. I would say the sun was setting low in the west but there is no sign of it. The clouds cover us delivering their droplets in showers. The sky begins to get a darker shade of gray as our day winds to an end.

Our meeting that night is just a recap of the day with Lynn throwing in that phase two training for the first group will begin in the morning after the team training and formation.

“So, what’s the plan for those who finish the training? Are we planning on throwing them on existing teams, using them as replacements, hopefully we won’t have to deal with that, or creating new teams?” Lynn asks.

“I guess we should probably cover that. My initial thought is that we have everyone trained as some form of militia, so to speak, but the ones that excel or want to be on teams can be considered. We’ll need more than just armed teams running around. What do you think?” I ask.

“I’m with that thinking. Train everyone that comes in but they’ll have their own tasks or work groups run by Bannerman. The ones that want to be and qualify for a team should be put on one. Although we have eight teams now, we’ve found times, like those coming up, when we’ve been spread pretty thin,” Lynn answers.

“So we denote who is ready to lead a team and form others when we have people ready right?” I ask.

“That sounds like a good plan to me. I know for one that Jordan is ready,” Drescoll says.

“What about Gonzalez?” Lynn asks.

“Yeah, she’s ready but I’d like to leave her in place as she pretty much leads Red Team when I’m not there,” I answer.

“Okay, I think Watkins mentioned something about Cressman and that she may be ready,” Lynn says. “We’ll fill out the teams as we need and as people become available.”

“Let’s keep in mind that we need others to work in other areas. This isn’t only about filling and creating teams,” Bannerman states.

“Agreed. So we keep it to those that want to and excel in the training,” Lynn says.

“I’ll leave that to you then,” I say.

“Yeah, gee, thanks, Jack,” Lynn says as yet another thing is heaped on her already busy plate.

Bannerman clears his throat to change the subject and adds, “Well, we finished the fences today and will be starting on the structures tomorrow. I’ll need some people to head out with flatbeds to pick up a great deal of lumber from the surrounding yards. And some others to start taking the greenhouses down. We won’t be able to put up more concrete pads until the rain clears. The training today with the trucks went well and they should be able to make their way down the road without dropping transmission pieces all over. We still have some work on backing up with a trailer but I don’t foresee that being a great problem tomorrow.”

“Jack, I have something that’s been bugging me. Well, not exactly bugging me per se but rather that’s been on my mind,” Drescoll says and looks at Robert and Bri before continuing. “Forgive me if this comes out wrong but didn’t you think that was, what was her name, oh yes, Julie. Didn’t you think that was her in the house when you told your story of getting Robert and Bri?”

“Yeah, I thought it was for sure but I’m guessing I was wrong and not for the first time,” I answer.

“What if you weren’t wrong? I talked some with her and there seems to be a huge gap in her memory,” Drescoll states.

Silence settles among the group as the ramifications of what he is saying is slowly absorbed. Bri tilts her head and looks at me in askance. Robert stares with his mouth open slightly and turns looking for his mom. The others have a glaze wash over their eyes as they draw inwards thinking of what Drescoll’s question implies.

“I just had to be wrong, that’s all. We would have seen others I think if that were possible. I mean, we’re talking about a genetic alteration. I don’t know but that doesn’t just disappear, does it?” I say but not terribly sure of what I’m talking about.

“Think about it,” Drescoll pushes on. “That means she would have to have some sort of antibodies or something. If that were true, couldn’t we use that to reverse the whole process?”

“I am no physicist or geneticist. Or kind ofany ‘cist’ for that matter. I wouldn’t know the first thing about that. Or how to use it or synthesize it. I don’t know that anyone here would either. That’s a pretty big ballgame we’re talking about. And we’re not even sure that’s what happened. She could have just hit her head or something. I wouldn’t even know how to check for something like that,” I answer. “Anyone have anything even remotely close to an answer?”

Everyone shakes their head. Frank said he’d ask around to see if anyone had any expertise but I’m highly doubtful. Anyone with that kind of knowledge would be working for the CDC or some research facility although the University of Washington had a pretty good medical department and medical research going on. My knowledge is frightfully small in that area other than knowing that genetic changes are possible. One only has to look outside at night to know that. All I know about it could be crammed into a thimble with room left over for a finger.

A thought runs through my head that we’ve all seen too many movies about this very thing and it seems so easy on screen. In real life, like many things, not so true. My realm of expertise on the subject would be to draw someone’s blood and shoot it into one of the night runners and see what happened. I mean besides pissing it the hell off. Nope, not into running around with a pissed off night runner just to see what his or her reaction would be. The ramifications that Drescoll has brought up is making my head hurt again. I check my ears for a trickle of blood.

“Well, one thing we aren’t going to do is experiment with people but if we do find someone with some knowledge, I’d be happy to hear them out,” I say after another long bout of silence. We don’t have a final word but just drift away as our thoughts about what Drescoll said almost paralyzes any other process.

The next morning dawns with mostly clear skies. It’s obvious it rained through the night but the clouds have parted leaving only faint reminders they were there. A few clouds still gather but for the most part, it’s another nice day coming our way. The sun glistens off the wet pavement as I gather the teams together before our daily training.

“I just want to let you know that I haven’t forgotten that you have families as well,” I begin addressing the group in a semi-circle around me; some kneeling on the still wet parking lot while others stand cradling their M-4’s. “I plan to take the 130 out when we can afford the time but it’ll have to be soon.” I see several faces light up.

“Now, there are limits we have to observe. First, any home or place we go has to be within 100 miles of a military airfield. We have to have JP-4 available. We can obviously only use the daylight and we have to be able to get there, search, and return by nightfall. We have to stay west of a line running from the middle of Texas due north to the eastern border of North Dakota. The majority of nuclear power plants lies east of that line and has most likely rendered the eastern part of the country inhospitable,” I continue.

Several faces fall at the news of the limitations. McCafferty raises her hand. “Sir, exactly what is the limit for Texas?” She asks with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“What place are you thinking about?” I ask in return.

“Lubbock, sir,” she answer.

“That should be far enough west,” I say seeing her eyes light up.

“I’m sorry for those that have family outside of those areas. I truly am and if we could, we’d go find out about everyone but the hard fact is that we can’t risk going east of that line,” I say.

I feel sick at heart looking at some of the crestfallen faces. I’d like to say I know of that feeling and could empathize with them but my kids are safe. I could perhaps share in the anxiety of not knowing they are safe given recent events but to totally not be able to find out or know for sure, no, no one who isn’t going through that could possibly know.

“Sir, are you sure the power plants melted down?” One soldier asks.

“I’m pretty sure,” I say looking to see who asked so I can address them directly but I can’t tell. “All of the safety systems and triple-redundant fail-safes relied on their own generation of power. When that power isn’t available, then the chain reactions start. I’m quite sure they are all in the process of melting down if they haven’t already. With the predominant eastern flow of wind and the numerous plants on that side of the country, well, the coverage has to be almost complete and we wouldn’t know until it was possibly too late. I’m truly sorry.”

The silence is complete. There’s a shifting of feet as some are eager and others saddened. To say this situation is awkward is to put it mildly. I would rather be in the midst of a proctology exam than be standing here telling the ones that have family in possible radiation zones that we can’t go there.

“So, I need a show of hands of who wants to go and who might have family or loved ones within those parameters,” I say wanting this awkwardness to be over.

A few raise their hands. I notice all of Red Team have their hands in the air. That makes it easy, I think counting the others. I ask Lynn to contact Watkins down in the Columbia Gorge with the information to see how many he has that can and would like to go. In all, we find twelve that can and are going. I let them know that we’ll have to wait for an opportune time but that it’ll also have to be soon. If we miss our window for any reason, we won’t be able to attempt it and to also prepare for that eventuality. Several ask about heading out with ground transportation if their homes are too far from a military field. I answer that we may be able to do that in the future but depleting our already thin resources for the period of time it will take isn’t possible at this time. I leave them with the, “we’ll have to see what the future holds. If we can, we will do just that.” The throaty roar of semi’s starting punctuates the atmosphere. Clouds of smoke rise from their stacks.

“Okay everyone, form up and let’s get on with this morning’s training,” Lynn says saving me from any further discomfort.

I had thought this would be mostly good news for the soldiers but it’s mixed. Even the ones who can go feel bad for the ones who can’t. There is a lot of shoulder patting as the teams head across parking lot. I suddenly feel very tired.

“Coming, Jack?” Lynn asks over her shoulder as she walks along with the others. I nod and head over to where they’re gathering.

After training, I lift off in the helicopter and head north. I’m solo today as Robert and Bri are starting the second part of their training today. I still have a queasy feeling in my stomach from this morning with the soldiers. I don’t think they have any hard feelings toward me but sometimes the messenger is associated with the feeling of pain or anguish. I felt bad seeing some of their faces as the hope of finding their loved ones, slim as it may be, was dashed. Sure, there were the vague promises of heading out over land but they know the line across the country still stands. Lynn and I had a private chat after training to be prepared for some leaving. Even knowing the extreme dangers in all of the forms this new world presents won’t stop the pull of wanting to know. I have no doubt that some will leave. However, it’s my hope that the camaraderie found with their colleagues will keep them here.

I head into the clear sky and am presented with the wide open wilderness of it all. The blue sky above with a scattering of clouds; the tail remnants of the front that came through. The vast area around is devoid of any form of life. No movement; just the open areas, the waters of the Puget Sound and the rivers feeding it, the brown fields, the houses nestled in amongst trees, the backyards that hold memories of days past. Even the birds seem to have disappeared. It brings a lonely feeling.

Frank picked out an area around Fort Lewis. I’ll cover the base itself, although we traversed it once seemingly years ago, and the surrounding towns of DuPont and Tillicum. The rally point will be the main entrance to Fort Lewis; actually, the Interstate just in front but the main gate will be a recognizable description to anyone in the area. I fly over the empty towns and base, once busy centers of activity, and broadcast the same message as the day before. I land at Gray Army Airfield and switch out helicopters before making my way through the bright morning back to base.

Bringing it in for a landing, I see Robert, Bri, and a few others in the brown field sitting in a semi-circle around Lynn next to my landing spot. They are beginning the next part of their training. Another larger group is gathered around several other team members. It appears Lynn has started another phase one training group and is leaving it up to the teams to teach this portion. I bring it in and set it down with the group holding onto anything that might blow away and disappear in the tall grass. Lynn looks over with an irritated look and I just shrug. That look tells me it’s a good thing I didn’t follow through with an earlier thought of hovering right over the top of them.

I shut down and head inside to gather the three teams to meet at our broadcast time outside of Fort Lewis. It’s much the same as yesterday except we head north. We only find five people who answer our call; one husband and wife with their young daughter and two other men in their mid to late twenties. None come from the base but I’m happy to be finding some survivors still existing in the world.

I take Robert and Bri aside that evening instead of heading to the roof so we can go through some additional training. My hope is to pass on what little wisdom and knowledge I have. My overall plan is to combine tracking, stealth, and tactical techniques with some discussion thrown in. This training will now encompass our evenings together but we can still go to the roof when the training only involves discussions. I’m not a master of any of these but, like I mentioned before, you only have to be one step ahead to teach.

The evening is more of a recap with Bannerman telling of progress with the buildings. A lot was accomplished in getting one of the large greenhouses apart and that should be finished within the next couple of days. Several large lumber yards were found, thank goodness for being in the Northwest, and he’ll start hauling the material back the next day. He tells of Watkin’s status and that he should be finished and on his way soon. I’m a little edgy about them staying away for so long seeing there is the very real potential of marauders but I’m sure the sight of the Stryker vehicles will make anyone think twice. At any rate, I’ll be happier when they return.

“When Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie return, we’ll start on the walls around the hospital and housing areas,” Bannerman finishes.

“We found a ham radio and are in the midst of setting it up. That will give us UHF, VHF, and side-band capabilities,” Frank adds.

This is great news as we will be able to hopefully communicate with others, more on the civilian side, over longer distances. Hopefully there will be others set up like us and we can share ideas, experiences, and knowledge if not actually being able to meet. Frank also sets up the next area for us to cover for survivors; that being the south parts of Tacoma. We’ll meet at the Tacoma mall.

Lynn discusses the start of the training. She praises both Robert and Bri as they have taken well to both phases. Bri’s arm still prevents her from participating in any strenuous exercises but it is healing and she seems to be without pain; that is unless she whacks it on a wall or chair.

“There is one other thing I should mention,” Franks says. “We’ve been picking up a little higher reading on the Geiger counter. I take daily readings just in case and it’s been a little higher each day.”

“How much higher?” Greg asks. We all sit up a little taller and this definitely gets all of our attention.

“It’s still way within the safe margin. It’s just that I noticed a higher reading, that’s all. I don’t think it’s worth worrying about but it should be mentioned,” Frank answers. “And monitored.”

“Well, I suppose it could be from the nuclear power plants that fill Europe, the Eastern seaboard, the India/Pakistan region, and the Orient. Their radiation could be drifting on the wind currents and reaching us. I think most of Europe would be completely uninhabitable; if not now, then soon. We’ll definitely have to monitor the readings daily and think about contingency plans if it approaches the danger zone. Honestly, between us, if it gets bad here, I can’t imagine a place in the northern hemisphere that wouldn’t be equally affected. I think we keep this between us for now,” I say.

“I agree,” Drescoll replies.

“Let’s table this for now but keep us informed if it keeps increasing and by what degrees, Frank. If it continues to climb, we’ll have to think about what to do but for now, I think we continue with what we have going,” I add.

I feel like shit when I finally hit my cot next to Lynn. My head is pounding and my whole body aches. It doesn’t quite feel like a flu coming on but it’s not far from it. The thing missing is the associated nausea. We have a lot to do and I can’t afford to be sick. It’s not like I feel I have to do everything and I am completely confident of those around but I still want to be a part of what’s going on. I head off to a troubled sleep thinking it’s just the stress and long days. One day I hope we can achieve some stability where we don’t constantly have to do things in order to just survive. It feels like pushing a big boulder up a hill; always more to do and further to go. We have come a long ways from our jaunting from place to place in the 130 but as we finish one thing, two more jumps into its place.

The morning dawns like the others before it except my restless sleep hasn’t dissipated the aches and pains. My head feels like a drum corps is parading inside. My muscles feel like they’ve been beaten with hammers. Lynn stirs beside me going through her usual routine; clothes, boots, gun. She rises and wakes the other teams for their morning under her tutelage. She eventually heads back to where I haven’t moved a muscle.

“Jack, time to rise and shine,” she says.

My groan says it all. But just in case it doesn’t, I add, “There’s no rise or shine for me. Go have fun without me.”

“Now how can there be any fun without your mug present. If you don’t get up, you’ll be depriving the rest of us of your oh so charming personality,” she replies.

“Yeah, we can’t have that now, can we? But the fact remains that I don’t wanna.”

“Jaaaaaack, come on. It’s another lovely day in paradise.”

“Paradise?! Oh good, have I finally woken up from this horrid dream?” I say rising slowly. The move isn’t the best one as the drummers inside turn the volume up. I’m eventually able to put on my boots and tie them without it feeling like my brain is actually going to pound through my eyeballs. Lynn leans over to give me a kiss on the top of my head and then departs.

I trudge outside and the bright day, with a sun that has just crested the mountains and is sending its warm rays down, doesn’t help my head at all. It seems a little overly bright and I have to squint in order not to become blinded or have my head explode. I’m sure that might ruin many of the others’ morning; watching my head pop. Then again, maybe not. They may in fact cheer and strike up a week long party in celebration. Maybe even make it a national day of celebration in the future. There could be an effigy placed in Times Square with C-4 planted inside the head and set off at the appropriate time. Of course, it’s going to be a long time before Times Square can ever be used again.

Fuck I’m tired, I think realizing the thoughts coursing through my head. I would shake my head to clear the thoughts if there wasn’t the real possibility of my head just flying off. Plus, my neck muscles vote against the idea of moving. I think maybe I should take a day off flying but the idea that there are others out there possibly needing help keeps my feet moving across the sunlit, paved surface. I join the other teams as they form up to train but I’m mostly a bystander on this one. They take off on a morning run but my feet remain firmly planted where they are. Lynn turns to look at me as they take off but doesn’t say anything. My training today will involve me practicing my ‘going to a sitting position.’ This is a mostly overlooked but important training maneuver and I decide to practice it. And it’s a good thing too because I don’t execute it with form and grace but it’s more of a plop. I see I’ll have to work on this maneuver much more in the future in order to get it right.

I sit on the warming asphalt cradling my head until the others return. I decide I am quite skilled in standing and don’t feel like I need to attempt that particular maneuver so I remain sitting as they run through contact drills. They finish at the firing range before going through a quick debrief of the morning. I haven’t budged. The break up and head inside.

“Good training with you this morning,” I say as they walk in groups toward the entrance. I of course call out quietly.

“Are you okay?” Lynn asks squatting beside me.

“Yeah, I think so. I feel like I’ve been hit by a meteor though,” I answer.

“Maybe you should just rest and take it easy today,” she suggests.

“No, I’ll be okay,” I say rising. Apparently I do need standing practice as this maneuver isn’t conducted with any semblance of grace either.

“Jack, you can’t fly in this condition,” Lynn says.

“Well, it’s not like I can really fly anyway. Seriously, I’ll be okay,” I say kissing her and walking over to the helicopter.

I climb in and sit in the seat for a moment. I honestly think about getting back out but, with a sigh, I start the checklist. The headache has diminished to a degree and I don’t have to squint nearly as much. The rotors begin spinning up and my thoughts turn to flying. I push the aches to the back of my mind and focus on setting the panel up for my flight north. I watch Robert and Bri emerge from the building and they wave. I wave back and the skids go light as I twist the throttle and pull up on the collective. I swing the tail around and head north gaining altitude.

Each task seems to take an extra effort. Even reaching for the rotary switch for the outside speakers seems to take every ounce of energy I have. It’s not entirely that I feel exhausted, although there is that, it’s more just a rundown feeling. Every one of my joints feels like someone stole the lubrication from them. Even my teeth hurt and I’m pretty sure teeth can’t feel shit. The pounding inside my head isn’t as strong as before but I still feel like my helmet is the only thing holding the pieces of my skull together. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone up today but here I am and I might as well make the best of it.

The Interstate intersects Tacoma and I concentrate on the southern part west of I-5 marking the areas I cover on the map for Frank to update. Nothing moves below except the occasional swaying of the tree tops as gusts blow through. I am concentrating on the ground below and almost take out a flock of birds flying through the area. I know I’m thankful we missed and am pretty sure they are as well. I don’t think either of us would have appreciated the end result.

I finish broadcasting over the area and stop to refuel before heading home. The refueling seems to take forever. I stand in the silence of the tarmac with the wind blowing through. The buildings stand without the slightest bit of interest in what I’m doing. It’s just me on the ramp in the midst of nothing. The breeze feels refreshing to an extent and I feel some of the aches depart as if swept away. The only sound is the wind blowing around the corners of the structures and my clothes flapping.

A high pitch whine begins to intrude into the silence. At first it’s just a little here and there as if riding on the currents. Then it begins to pervade the area as if quickly approaching. I know that sound and look to the skies around. The large hangar buildings prevent much of a view toward the horizon to the south and I don’t see anything aloft. The buildings also make it hard to identify exactly where it’s coming from but, with the sound and my familiarity of it, I keep my attention focused to the south. I touch my M-4 hanging off my shoulder as if to verify it’s still with me. A pat on my vest pouches assure me there is ammo if needed.

Soon enough, the white shape of a larger business jet materializes from behind a far hangar on final for McChord. I watch it as it lowers itself toward the runway to the north; its gear hanging down as if groping for the earth. With a touch of excitement, tempered with a bit of caution, I walk toward the Kiowa that is patiently awaiting my return, jump in, and begin the start procedure. I hear the faint roar of thrust reversers just before my own turbine lights. Lifting off, I gain altitude and head north.

I hover behind a tree line with the camera focused on the jet that has taxied in next to the pair of C-130’s we parked earlier. The caution that underlies the excitement has me making sure of what actually just touched down, well, I know what but my concern is who. I see the nose gear compress as the brakes are applied on the biz jet. Still watching, I think about making a radio call to base but, if this is who I think it could be, I want it to be a surprise.

The jet door lowers. I zoom in and see a man walk down the flight of steps. He turns at the bottom and apparently says something to someone still inside. With that, he turns and heads over to the 130’s walking completely around them. Apparently either finding or not finding what he is looking for, he heads to the base operations building. I zoom in farther and see he isn’t armed; at least not that I can pick up on the camera. I lift the helicopter over the trees and the nose drops as I start forward. The man turns as the sound of the heli reaches across the ramp. He shades his eyes and, seeing me slowly approach, trots back to the jet.

This move doesn’t exactly give me warm fuzzies as I suddenly envision a large group of mercenaries lying in wait inside the aircraft. I pull back to a hover at a distance over one of the taxiways as he reaches the steps once again. I see another person come to the doorway. Zooming in again with the camera, I see an older woman wearing a large brimmed hat at the top of the stairs also shielding her eyes as she looks in my direction. Well, so far so good, I think starting the Kiowa ahead again. I don’t see anyone else and if I can’t take care of one guy and an elderly woman then my usefulness has come to an end.

I mean, granted, if there are others, then the game changes but I just don’t get that feel. The thought of a radio call strikes me again and that would be the right and safest thing to do; bring teams up here for support before contact is made. But when have I ever done the right thing. That’s another reason I am so grateful for Lynn; she keeps me real and grounded. But she isn’t here and I find the helicopter moving forward almost of its own volition. It’s not like I’ll just step out and lie down on the ground with my back to them, but I’ll set it down close and stay in with the rotors turning.

The woman climbs down the stairs and they both look over at me. We are both on the ramp staring at each other. Well, this is going nowhere, I think as I reach over and shut the helicopter down. If they were going to try something, they would have by now. The rotors wind to a stop and I exit. The sun’s rays are pounding down on the ramp warming the day up substantially. Wait, that’s my head that’s pounding. The sun’s rays are merely streaming down. I place my helmet on the seat fully expecting a greater portion of my head to still be in it. I walk over to where they are gathered by the stairs.

As I draw near and, as best as I can having to squint with the brightness of the day, I recognize Lynn’s mom under the hat. She recognizes me as well and runs over to give me a hug which I return but feel my joints and muscles squeal in protest.

“I assume you’re Jack,” the man says sticking out his hand.

“You’d be correct and I’m guessing you’re Craig,” I say returning his shake.

“The one and only,” he replies.

“Well, I have to say you’re going to make Lynn’s day,” I state.

“She’s here!” Lynn’s mom exclaims.

“She is,” I respond. Craig has to grab her arm as she almost buckles at the knees. Tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

“Where is she?” Craig asks looking around.

“We’re set up a little to the south. Getting you two there could be interesting though,” I reply.

“How so?” Craig asks confused.

“Well, I haven’t radioed in your arrival so we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” say.

“Okay, just curious, what’s the hard way?” Craig asks.

“The helicopter only holds two so I fly you down separately,” I answer. I think about us walking or flying over to pick up a vehicle but my pounding head vetoes that idea.

“And the easy way?” He asks.

“There isn’t one,” I answer.

“I guess that makes the choice a simple one then. Why don’t you take Mom down and I’ll lock up here,” Craig suggests.

“Sounds good. Are there any cats to transport?” I ask.

He laughs, “Nah, they didn’t quite make this trip.” I want to ask about their story, about the length of time it took for them to arrive, but time is pressing and I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Right now I want to get back and get the teams north to see if my broadcasts reached any ears.

“I guess that’s a good thing because I suck at herding cats. Shall we?” I ask extending my arm for Lynn’s mom.

I crank up and turn south for the short flight to base. I can tell Lynn’s mom is eager to see Lynn but I can also tell she is very exhausted. Dark circles line puffy eyes. Part of the puffiness is due to her tears I’m sure but whatever ordeal they’ve had to endure the past months have also taken their toll. I’m just glad they made it and am eager to deliver them to Lynn as well. She needs an uplift. She hasn’t mentioned it but I know her family hasn’t been far from her mind and she’s been fretting about them. This only strengthens my resolve to search for the families the soldiers families when we can.

The scene is close to the same as I swing over the concrete perimeter walls; Lynn is with the training group. This time they aren’t too close to my landing spot having learned from the day prior. I settle the Kiowa down with a plop. I’m eager for Lynn to see her mom so I don’t exactly try to ease it in. I’m pretty sure I saw the skids level with my eyes for just a moment. I glance over with an apology for the landing.

Lynn looks over at the clang of my landing. She turns back to the group and then back again noticing I have a passenger. I leave the rotors going and tell Lynn’s mom it’s okay to step out. Well, maybe I should have shut down or maybe briefed her some about the physics of whirling blades overhead. Lynn’s mom steps out and her hat is immediately blown off her head and hurled into the grass. She looks after it sailing into the air but then spots Lynn and all thoughts of her hat are immediately forgotten. I hear her cry of joy as she runs toward Lynn.

I cringe in hope that she remembers to stay ducked and am about to lift off again when she clears the rotor’s edge. Yeah, sometimes I don’t think much. Lynn stands in shock seeing her mom running toward her. There’s not much that will shock Lynn or make her freeze. I believe this is one of the only times I’ve ever seen her do so. Well, that might not be entirely true. There was this time when a few of my buds and I returned after a particularly harrowing mission and relieved a little stress but we won’t talk about that. Let’s just say that we aren’t allowed back at that bar and it cost us a pretty penny to cover the fire damage. Yes, fire in a bar — go figure.

Lynn recovers and runs to her mom. They collide like two freight trains and envelop each other practically squeezing the breath out of each other. I feel a warm, salty droplet run down my cheek. I’m sure it’s sweat. I crank the throttle up and with a lift on the collective, I become airborne once again. With her head tilted, Lynn looks upward questioning what I’m doing. She’ll find out soon enough.

I head back north and radio in for the teams that are to rendezvous at the pickup zone to get ready and head out on their own if I don’t get back in time. I race across the northern part of Lacey; it looks completely different than it did a short while ago as most of the neighborhoods have been burnt to the ground and lie in charred heaps, and across the Nisqually basin. The river leading to the Puget Sound glistens in the sun. A few cranes now line the water’s edge and a couple take flight up the river with my low passage. I land to see Craig standing by the jet with a few bags on the ground beside. I shut down and join him.

“Anything in there you can’t possibly do without for a little while?” I ask pointing at the luggage.

“I suppose not,” he answers.

“Okay, cause I’m not sure where we’ll put them unless we want to duct tape them to the sides. We’ll have a team in the area in an hour or so and I’ll have them swing by and get them,” I say.

“Sounds good,” he replies.

The flight back is about the same as before. The Humvees of the teams heading north for the meet up are driving down the entrance road and I radio them to go pick up a set of bags on the McChord ramp. Craig exits as I begin to shut down. Lynn races over and another collision takes place. Lynn looks over as the rotors come to a stop with the most thankful look I think I’ve ever seen on her. She really does carry that expression a lot when we’re together but not like this. Yeah, I might be getting some tonight. She is there as I step out and throws her arms around me.

“Thank you so much!!!” She whispers in my ear as we hug.

“I found them wandering around. I think they’re strays. Can we keep them?”

“Jack Walker!”

“Sorry. I’m really glad they made it,” I say into her ear.

“You have no idea how you’ve made my day,” she says with tears still streaming down.

She then kisses me full on the lips and heads over to where Craig and her mom are standing. Yep, I’m definitely getting some, I think as I watch them walk inside. Lynn calls for Gonzalez to take over her class and instructs her to take them to the shooting range. I’m not sure if the dizzy feeling I have is from the joy of seeing Lynn so happy or from the total body ache I still feel. I practice my sitting maneuver again on the curb lining the parking lot. The headache feels like a dehydration headache or a lack of caffeine but I know it’s not that as I’ve had enough of both water and coffee.

I sit in warm sunlight. It’s a nice day and the breeze blowing across my body feels good. I feel a warm flush in my cheeks and seriously wonder if I don’t have a fever. It’s just a flu bug, I think as I rise to head inside to catch up on Watkins’ progress and hear if the teams find anyone. Gonzalez walks over. I think she should’ve been with the class and look over to see McCafferty standing with the group at the range.

“You should really come see this, sir,” Gonzalez says reaching me.

“What?” I ask feeling very tired and drained.

“You’ll have to see it for yourself,” she says.

With a heavy sigh, I follow her to the range. Robert, Bri, and several others are lying prone in their individual stations shooting at targets downrange. She leads me to Bri lying next to Robert. Handing me a pair of binoculars, she points to the target Bri is taking individual shots at. I bring the binoculars up and focus on the target. This seems to enhance the brilliance of the day and it takes me a second to adjust.

I see a large hole in the middle ring of Bri’s target. She’s placing every shot dead center at the 500 meter target. I hear the muted pop as she squeezes off another round. The target doesn’t move as the round passes through the already formed hole. Bloody impressive. I doubt I could shoot that well. I turn the binoculars to Robert’s target and find much the same result.

“Nice job, you two,” I say handing the binoculars back to Gonzalez.

“Thanks, Dad,” Bri says looking up from her prone position.

She still has a splint on her arm but seems to be able to fire well with it. Okay, that’s an understatement. Robert looks up with a grin. Yeah, firing a gun is fun and they are both enjoying their time on the range. I know I always enjoyed it. A warm flush spreads through my body and the dizziness comes on strongly again. It’s as if everything has lost clarity. I suddenly see dirt filling my vision but without any confusion accompanying it; it just is. I don’t even feel the impact with the ground as everything goes black.

Bri is out on the firing range again. She smells the dirt beneath her as she lies on the hard packed ground sighting through her scope. The targets are small in the distance but jump closer as she flips the lever on the scope to the 4x setting. She turns the dot intensity knob to a setting where she can see the dot and target without either overshadowing the other. Robert is lying next to her doing much the same. Gonzalez shouts telling everyone to load up and begin firing. She takes the mag and inserts it. Her arm still aches slightly with the maneuver and she pulls the charging handle chambering a round.

Gonzalez and McCafferty have taken them out for their training again today. Her dad is still lies unconscious on his cot and Lynn hasn’t left his side since yesterday. He had come out to see their shooting and fell to the ground shortly after praising them. One moment she is looking up at her dad smiling down at her with a pair of binoculars in his hand and the next he crumples to the ground. That image is stuck in her mind. Her dad standing with his M-4 shouldered, the suppressed barrel sticking up behind his shoulder, the binoculars in one hand, his ammo-laden vest over black fatigues, his tired eyes looking down and the smile on his face. And then watching as his eyes roll back and he falls limply to the ground with a thud.

She remembers the panic she felt watching his ungraceful slide to the ground. Gonzalez had shouted for McCafferty to go get Lynn as she knelt beside her dad. Soon Bri and Robert were kneeling beside him as well. His face looked red and his breathing came in gasps. Gonzalez checked his pulse and Lynn showed up. They retrieved a cot and carried him inside. They all sat with him for most of the night and Bri feels the tiredness of staying up so late. He didn’t wake up or move the whole night.

Those memories flash through her mind as she sights downrange and squeezes off the first round. She feels the small kick against her shoulder as her M-4 talks to her. She feels it become just another part of her as it responds to her wishes. The weapon against her shoulder is just another extension of herself. She feels a comfort with it in her hands. With each pull of the trigger, she feels an anger build within. She is like her dad in that manner; that fear will turn to anger. She has heard him mention that before but never really realized what he meant until now. It was one of those things she’d just shrugged off thinking it was just her dad talking.

She thinks of Nic and the anger builds. She is incredibly sad that Nic isn’t here and misses her so much. Tears well in her eyes blurring the target in her scope. She blinks them away but the feeling remains. She is oblivious to all around her except her thoughts and the target. The M-4 locks as she runs through her ammo. She inserts another mag lying beside her, flips the release and continues firing. Each round that exits increases the feeling inside; feelings of both sorrow and anger.

She centers the dot on the target again after recovering from the barrel raising a small amount. The sadness of remembering Nic folds into anger as she realizes that she won’t ever see Nic again. She has known that of course but locked it down for too long. The feelings she stowed away now surface. She is angry and fearful for her dad lying sick on his cot. She thinks it has something to do with the scratch he received on his neck some time ago that hasn’t completely healed. She knows several soldiers died from such scratches, well, really bites, they had received. Nic is gone and her dad is sick and who knows if he’ll recover. Both are a result of confrontations with night runners and her anger is directed towards them.

She resolves to see every night runner dead. They took her sister away and now possibly her dad and she’ll see every single one of them dead. The target in the distance becomes another night runner and her eyes narrow as she puts her dot square on it. She replaces another mag and continues firing. She feels an inner toughness build. The pain in her arm vanishes. There is only the night runner (target) in front of her, the red dot, and the trigger. A voice intrudes on the bubble she has created. “Cease fire, I said,” she hears Gonzalez shout.

Bri removes her finger from the trigger and looks up to see Gonzalez standing over her. Bri had become so focused on her feelings and the target — yes, they are only targets now — that she lost everything else. Even Robert is looking over at her from his position with a quizzical look. She feels the burning in her eyes from the tears and feels slightly ashamed of having them. She wipes her eyes and Gonzalez kneels down beside her.

Gonzalez calls for a cease fire but one gun still rings out with single shots one right after the other. She looks over to see Bri still sending rounds across the firing range.

“Cease fire, I said,” Gonzalez shouts standing over Bri.

Bri looks up and Gonzalez sees her red eyes with streaks of dirt trailing down her cheeks. Behind those red eyes though, she sees an inner toughness that she always knew Bri had inside but is now shining clearly through. She knows that look and what is running through Bri’s mind. She remembers a time when that came over her and what it could lead to. She’s seen it happen enough times to others; they can become so hardened they begin to shut out other forms of humanity. Any other feelings are overshadowed by that hardness that they become close to non-existent. Looking into Bri’s eyes, she remembers when that hardness came upon her.

She always had a certain strength growing up in the streets of the small town of Clovis, New Mexico. But that was made into something else during her tour in the sandbox. Her squad had been patrolling through the streets of Tikrit, as they had been for some time, when they were ambushed. Not wanting to relive the entire experience again, Gonzalez just focuses on the loss of her friends and the feeling of that steel settle within her. Yes, she knows the look in Bri’s eye. She had a Sergeant that took her aside and told her the same thing she is about to tell Bri. It made the difference for her and she has so far been able to keep the toughness and humanity in balance.

She kneels next to Bri. “Look,” she starts off quietly so only Bri can hear her, “believe it or not, I know what’s going through your mind. You want to kill everything and everyone that took away those you care about. I understand that. But don’t let it overwhelm your other senses. Hold onto the toughness but don’t let it dominate you. You don’t have to act like a guy or carry bravado to be tough. You don’t have to carry only that anger inside or be angry all of the time to be tough. Constant anger will eat away your soul. Be tough yes, but not to the extent of everything else. Keep your feminine side. Hold it close and wrap yourself in it but keep that inner steel too. Let them complement each other rather than choose one or the other.”

Gonzalez sees her words settle into Bri. With a nod, she rises. “Okay everyone. Mags and chambers clear. Let’s get these weapons cleaned and then we’re going for a nice jog around the compound.”

The shame Bri felt because of her tears vanishes with Gonzalez’ words. She feels the essence of what Gonzalez said sink in. The anger retreats to an extent. The fear and worry for her dad remains as does the sadness she feels for Nic but there is a settling within her that she feels to her core. That the night runners will die doesn’t leave but the deep-set anger is replaced by an inner calm. The anger doesn’t fade altogether and she can feel the fiery furnace just below but it blends. That’s what it feels like. Tempered steel comes to her mind. That’s what she’ll be. But she remembers the part about keeping her soft side. She feels a deep connection with Gonzalez and relishes Gonzalez’ ability to be tough yet still jokes around. Yes, tempered steel.

She rises and picks up her empty mags after checking that her chamber is clear. “Are you okay, Bri?” Robert asks rising with her.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just worried for dad,” Bri answers.

“What did Gonzalez say?” Robert asks.

“Nothing. Just for me to listen better next time,” she replies.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he says.

They clean their weapons and then drain buckets of sweat on Gonzalez’ “trot” around the compound. There isn’t enough air in the entire Northwest to fill their lungs yet Gonzalez runs beside them asking if they all have lead in their asses. Bri feels good with the exercise and delights in the feel of the hard run. If not for the lack of air, she would like to run more. She will build herself and she sends a thought out to the area as they finish — “Watch out night runners. I’m coming.”

Little does she realize Robert is having the same thoughts.

I feel awareness come back like after being under after an operation. It’s a sudden awareness as if the brain just turns on. There’s no dreaming or waking from a dream and the thought that you’ve woken up. It’s complete emptiness, nothingness, and darkness followed by awareness. It’s so sudden it’s startling. However, unlike the anesthesia, there is no slowness to the senses. I’m in a space of emptiness one moment and aware the next. I open my eyes and see Lynn sitting beside me looking to the side. I feel her hand holding mine.

“Wow! I must have been seriously tired,” I say reliving the last memory I have of becoming dizzy and falling.

“Jack?! Oh my God!” Lynn says turning her head quickly toward me. I see tears run down her face which startles me for a second. I mean, I’ve only been out for a short bit and only passed out. It’s not like I fell off the roof or something.

I start to rise but Lynn’s hand pushes me back. “Oh no you don’t. You just lie there,” she says.

“I’m fine, seriously,” I say trying to rise against her hand. I notice the IV in my arm and see the faces of Robert and Bri appear.

“Jack, you are not okay. You just lay back and rest,” Lynn says.

I feel fine. As a matter of fact, I feel great. The joint and muscle aches that have plagued me are gone and I notice the drum team in my head is silent. I realize the concern she has over anyone passing out and that they have to take it easy but I honestly feel fine and want to get up. It’s then that I notice the tears welling in Robert’s eyes and streaming down Bri’s cheeks. Yeah, now I’m really confused. People have passed out before without having these theatrics played out.

“Hon, I feel fine. Really. I just passed out from exhaustion or maybe dehydration but I feel fine. There’s a lot to do and I want to find out how many people the teams found,” I say trying to rise again. Lynn pushes firmly back.

“Just passed out, Jack?” Lynn says with a sniffle. “How long do you think you ‘passed out’ for?”

I think about it and how refreshed I feel. It’s that feeling like rising from a well-deserved nap and energy abounds. “Well, most of the afternoon I’d guess,” I answer.

“Jack, you’ve been unconscious for the better part of two weeks,” Lynn says.

I can’t even begin to describe the shock. There is no more trying to rise against her hand. I feel her hand squeeze mine as I try to comprehend what she just said. Two weeks? I think as my mind spins. I don’t even want to think of how they’ve fed me. Her words and my reality just don’t mix. I can’t fathom being out for that long and not being able to realize it. It truly feels like the same day. I mean, I do feel so much better and that’s one point lending favor to her words.

Thoughts race through my mind seemingly at random. Every once in a while, one will stick but not for long as another forms crowding the previous one out. What has happened since I’ve been out? How could I be out for so long? What was it? How are Lynn’s mom and Craig? What have the kids been up to? Did they complete training? Is my neck healed? Did Watkins make it back? What the fuck happened?!

Lynn apparently sees the thoughts flit through my mind. “Jack, don’t worry about a thing. Everything is fine around here. It’s just good to have you back,” she says leaning over to give me a big hug. The kids join her and I’m suddenly engulfed in a sea of bodies. And it’s a good thing.

“You just lay there and rest. We’ll catch you up on what’s going on later,” Lynn adds after the dog pile on Jack ends.

Yeah, there’s no way I could get up with the news that is still so surreal to my mind. On the other hand, I feel restless and want to get up. I was never very good at just lying down when I had energy to burn. Still, I think I’ll lie here and mull things over in my head.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Dad,” Bri says rising.

“Me too, sweetheart,” I reply.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re okay too, Dad,” Robert says. I nod my thanks to him. I hear footsteps and watch as Gonzalez comes into my vision and kneels beside me.

“Good to see you’re okay, sir,” she says and reaches down to my arm. I watch as she removes the tape holding the needle in my arm and slides it out.

“Thanks,” I say. My mind is still reeling too much to say anything else.

A couple of hours pass and I can’t lie down any longer. I am feeling very restless and want to be up. This time, Lynn allows me to rise but is watchful. I’m sure at the slightest stumble, although that is something I do during the normal course of my day, she will have me back in the cot. I pay careful attention not to trip, falter, or even breathe for that matter because, as much as I like to think so, I don’t have the final say. As weird as the thought is that flies through, I think about having missed getting some — however long ago that might have been. I’m still not completely convinced that almost two weeks have passed.

One thing I am certain of is that I’m hungry. No, strike that. I’m ravenous. After assuring herself that I can still tie my shoes on my own, Lynn walks with me to the dining room. I can’t get enough to eat; however, I do get to the point where I don’t have a bottomless pit in my stomach. I see from the light streaming in the open doors that it’s still daytime and I want to go out. Not much is said between Lynn and me as she is still ascertaining whether I can walk on my own two feet. I get several pats on the shoulder as I pass others on our way out.

If I doubted that time had passed before, looking outside erases any and all doubt. They’ve been extremely busy. Where large fields of only grass once grew, there now stands several barns in various stages of completion. Looking north, large greenhouses stand in the fields. Near the walls and close to our sanctuary are lines of shipping containers with a dirt road in front of them. A mobile crane is situated next to them. As startling as the other sights are, the sight of a giant wind turbine next to the building is even more so.

“We still have to figure out the engineering to gear it into the pumps but we managed to get it upright,” Bannerman says behind me.

“Yeah, I, um, see that. Nicely done,” I say. I’m in awe of the change in our surroundings and that only adds to the confusion that my waking has brought.

“We also have walls around the hospital and are working on the housing development on McChord,” he adds.

“Maybe I should pass out more often,” I say amazed at the progress. Yes, that’s how I’m going to refer to it — passing out.

“Another day or two and we should be able to start bringing livestock in depending on how we want to prioritize that,” Bannerman says.

I’m still too stunned to answer. One thing that does come to my attention is the odor I’m emitting. They apparently fed me and took care of me, for which I’m thankful, but there was a distinct lack of clothing changed. I’m surprised anyone can stand within twenty feet of me. I turn to head in to remedy that. The sun is low in the western sky signifying this day, whichever one it might be, is about to end. I hear the approach of vehicles.

“Who’s that coming in?” I ask.

Lynn, Bannerman, Robert, and Bri all turn toward the entrance road. They stand shielding their eyes from the sun. “What do you mean, Jack? I don’t see a thing,” Lynn finally says.

That’s another thing I notice, the overly brightness of the day I had in the days previous, well, weeks I guess, isn’t as bad as it was. It still seems bright out but not blindingly so. “No, I mean the ones I hear coming in. Who’s out?” I ask.

Lynn looks at me with her sidelong expression that says she’s trying to figure something out. It’s her ‘what the fuck’ look. “We have teams out for the walls and escorts for the trucks. They should be returning shortly,” she answers.

“That must be them then,” I say. Now I’m getting funny looks from all everyone.

“What?” I reply to those looks.

“Nothing,” Lynn answers.

This is a day for confusion as I hear vehicles approaching and they should be at least showing up on the entrance road by now. I shrug and turn to head back in to take care of my offensive nature. Just then several Humvees appear in the distance over the entrance road hill. Following are several semi’s with shipping containers on their trailers. Lynn gives me her ‘what the fuck’ expression again.

“How in the hell did you hear them, Jack?” She asks.

“I just did. Must have just been a trick of nature, the way sound was carrying, or something,” I answer but am confused myself. It seemed so clear that they should have crested the hill long before they did. Maybe they stopped or something.

“Yeah, well, the ‘trick of nature’ didn’t work for me,” she says. “And I know your hearing ability, Jack. It’s non-existent.” I am about to do the ‘huh, didn’t hear you’ thing but realize this isn’t the time. I’m not in the mood to get my ass kicked just now.

“I really don’t know. I just heard them, that’s all,” I say fully realizing that my times of selective hearing are over.

“Hmm,” is her only response.

I head into Cabela’s to change as the vehicles pull to a stop outside. To be honest, I don’t feel very comfortable having heard the vehicles from so far. My hearing has been shot for years from jet engines and gunfire. I shrug the uncomfortable feeling away thinking it was just sound carrying on the wind. Sometimes one person will hear something another right beside them doesn’t due to whatever filters they have going on in their mind at the time.

In the shower, the thought returns and parts of previous missions filter through my mind. Most of the thoughts center around the senses and I think about the sights, sounds, and smells trying to fit them into hearing the vehicles from so far away. The dampness and heat of the jungle with its associated smell of mulch; the dry arid air of the desert. I think back and know I was always the first in our team to see movement but then I’ve always had good eyesight. I was also able to smell them first. Another funny thing is that, with my hearing loss, I was usually able to hear things out on a mission first as well. I know, go figure, right?

I remember one time when I first starting going out with the teams. Even though I had rank, that mattered little when out in the field. It was a matter of experience. With that, I was put in the fifth position — second from last — and carried the spare radio, batteries, extra med gear, and anything else the others didn’t want to carry. We were on a solely recon mission to locate the base camp of a local guerilla group. I won’t say where but let’s just say that it involved a lot of double and triple canopy.

We were paralleling a moderately used path in a small draw that ran between two steep ridgelines extending from an even larger ridgeline to our front. The terrain wasn’t too steep along the path that ran close beside a fast moving creek coming off the ridge; running over smooth gray, water-worn rocks and forming small pools with silt beds. Intel had put a possible location for the camp at the head of the creek and that is the area we were creeping toward. The path showed recent movement where we intersected it and began our climb. The dense underbrush made our going slow as silence was the key. It wouldn’t do at all for anyone to hear us and give them the advantage of knowing where we were without us knowing where they were.

It was later in the afternoon and about an hour and a half into our climb. The air finally started dropping from its sweltering temperature well into the nineties and humidity running around 267%. — well, that’s what it felt like. We made several forays to the creek, always careful to cover our tracks, to fetch a resupply of water. I remember thinking I really hoped the guerillas at the camp, which was supposedly at the head of the fast-moving water, weren’t using the creek as their latrine and laundry. With that thought, I plopped in another iodine tablet.

I suddenly had this bad feeling come over me. Not necessarily a sense of impending doom, but more that we were not alone and shared this vine-laden, towering tree-clad, tall fern and bush section of the world. With this feeling came the faint scent of unwashed bodies. I looked at our teammate in the drag position and then at the one in front. They gave no indication they felt or smelled anything. They just continued the climb with the person in the drag position covering our tracks. Being the newbie, I didn’t want to say anything about the feeling thinking it was just nerves as we closed in on the reported position. Still, there was the odor. I crept up to the fourth man in line when we halted for our usual twenty meter stop.

“What is it, Walker?” He whispered as I tapped him on the shoulder. He spoke over his shoulder still covering his area.

“I smell body odor,” I said. He sniffed several times and gave the ‘really, we brought this guy with us’ look.

“Seriously, I smell something,” I said trying not to shrink under the look but without much success.

“Eagle six, Comers here,” he said into his throat mic.

“Go ahead, Comers. What’s up?” Our team leader answered.

“Walker here says he smells something,” Comers replied.

I soon made out the crouched, shadowy figure of our team leader — I can’t for the life of me remember his name — make his way to us. He kneeled next to us and sniffed the air.

“I don’t smell shit. Did you overdo the uppers?” He asked thinking I was having a case of the nerves.

I could see the frustration and disgust in his eyes thinking he made a mistake in bringing me along. The jungle already smelled of rot and decay but there is a distinct smell that a body long removed from soap and water gives off. I could still catch an occasional whiff of that very distinct aroma.

“No, I haven’t taken any. Adrenaline is doing me just fine for now,” I answered. “With the cooling of the day, the air is settling into this draw. I swear it’s there,” I answered whispering. See, I had spent many hours with my grandfather in the woods. The amount of knowledge he had about the woods could never be imparted in a single lifetime but I absorbed all he offered and thirsted for more.

“It could be coming from the reported camp ahead then,” he said.

“It was stronger about twenty meters behind us so I think whatever is causing it is on the ridge line above us,” I said. Some of the previous disgust left his eyes but not entirely. I could see some indecision as he contemplated our next move.

“I could sneak up the ridge a ways and take a look,” I said quietly thinking that seeing I was already in for a penny, I might as well be in for the whole pound. I remember him calling to our point man to find a dense section of brush to hole up in.

“We need a rest anyway. Comer, go with him but Walker, if you’re wrong, this is your last time out,” he said and crept back up to his position.

I’ll never forget Comer’s look and the shake of his head. Here was a noob with a case of nerves and he had to go babysit. Looking back, I can’t say I blame him. We moved into thick brush before Comer and I moved out.

“Okay, Walker, let’s go look for your phantoms,” he said as we parted leafy fronds and slowly moved out. We crept up the steep ridge angling back toward where I first smelled them. We had made it about half way up the ridge when he turned.

“Okay, I smell them too,” he said and radioed back. “Eagle six, Comer.”

“Go ahead,” the reply came back.

“What do you know? The noob was right. Do you want us to proceed and get a visual or wait?” Comer asked.

“Come back and guide us in,” Eagle six responded. We found the camp about three-quarters of the way up on a flattened section of the ridge and reported its location. Nope, this wasn’t my last invite with the team and was eventually moved up to point before moving to a different team and set of missions entirely. I did seem to have elevated senses in the field so perhaps Lynn is right, maybe I do have selective hearing.

“Are you okay in there?” I hear Lynn call from the shower room door.

“Yeah, just fine. I’ll be out in a moment,” I answer although thoughts of inviting her in invade my mind momentarily. I hear the door closing shutting off my chances altogether.

I turn the water off and towel dry. Wiping the fog from the mirror, I see an entirely different person. Although there is still a hint of dark circles under my eyes, those have mostly vanished. I’m startled to notice the scratch on my neck has healed. I also notice my body has tightened up to a degree. I always tried to keep in shape but gravity seemed to be winning that battle as of late. However, the man looking back in the steamy glass is a previous version of me. The morning training seems to have had some affect.

I don a fresh set of fatigues and head outside. The smell of dinner wafts down from the restaurant upstairs. Lynn is ever present at my side not trusting my ability to move on my own. The kids and I meet as usual and I notice a different light in Bri’s eyes. I can’t quite put my finger on it but there is a definite sharpness to them. For that matter, there is the same change in Robert’s eyes as well.

Our meeting is the usual recap except it’s a bit longer and focuses more on the past to catch me up. Bannerman is working to engineer an attachment for the wind turbine to the water pump. The barns, stables, greenhouses, and other pens are almost complete. He notes that we are close to being ready to locate and bring in livestock in addition to starting to plant. He found a housing development area not far from our base and started clearing the land for agriculture. Frank mentions that the night runners appear to be carnivorous so the fields won’t need to be protected from them. Others in the area, meaning bandits and marauders, “well, if we want to protect against them, we’ll have to put up barriers.”

“We won’t be able to plant those fields until next year anyway,” Bannerman chimes in.

Bannerman talks about wanting to bring a water tower in next and have the turbine and water pump supply the tower. He also talks of having to treat the water in the tower but with the projects currently underway, he says this can wait until those are finished.

“Even if we do move up to the bases, we’ll still need a supply of water here for the livestock and greenhouses,” he says concluding his remarks.

Lynn tells about the first group completing phase two of their training ahead of schedule and the second group being a few weeks into their training.

“So, do we continue with our plan and move people up there? We can keep both places with this one mainly being for livestock though I see the need to keep people here as well,” I ask.

“I think we should finish the walls but I think it’d be better to wait until we have more teams trained before we think about splitting our resources,” Lynn says.

“You’re probably right. Besides, it’s going to take us some time to clear the housing areas let alone the other parts of the base we want to use,” I say. “Bannerman, you said the wall was complete around the hospital?”

“Yes, it’s been complete for a little while,” he answers.

“What about tackling this one and clearing it out before venturing to the distribution centers? I also haven’t forgotten about heading off to locate families,” I say.

“I suppose it’s as good as any,” Lynn says but I see Drescoll grimace.

“What’s the look for?” I ask.

“That place is huge. I’m not even sure we could clear that out with all of the teams we have,” he says.

“Let’s take the teams up tomorrow and have a look then,” I reply.

“Leaving two teams here for protection, right?” Lynn states.

“Of course,” I respond.

We break and head to our rooms for the night with me thinking they don’t really need me. They’ve accomplished miracles in my absence. It’s not that I feel useless. Quite the contrary, I’m happy they kept everything going. I feel a little tension leave my body realizing this place will continue to function and hopefully survive should something happen to me. It’s still my kids I worry about. They have their mom now so the question of being orphaned is less of a player, but I still have that parental side that I don’t think ever leaves.

I wake the next morning feeling even more vibrant. I head out for a training run with the others and am surprised when it ends. I do notice Bri’s eagerness during the training. Both she and Robert are right in front listening when they should and are totally engaged in the training exercises. They almost look disappointed when it ends.

“Dad?” Bri says as we are heading back in.

“Yeah, hon,” I reply.

“What team am I getting assigned to?” She asks.

This both startles and scares the shit out of me. I feel my heart leap in my chest. Well, it doesn’t exactly leap but more comes to a complete stop and then starts again after some hesitation. I guess I should have been expecting this but didn’t really. I just wanted them trained and never imagined her actually being on a team. Reasons why she can’t be put on one circulate. I think about pulling her age thing out of a hat.

“Talk to Lynn about that,” I answer.

“Oh, hell no, you are not throwing that on me, Jack,” Lynn says from behind me. There goes that brush off of responsibility. Ugh!

“Dad, I finished training and want to be on a team,” Bri says.

“I know, sweetheart, but you’re too young to be on a team,” I respond.

“Daaad?” She says.

There is that sad puppy dog look that has always worked in times past. I honestly can’t be trusted when that look comes around. That must be the same with every dad and his daughter the world around.

“Sir, she can be an honorary member of Red Team and hang with me,” Gonzalez says putting an arm around Bri.

I honestly had no idea Gonzalez was anywhere remotely close. I give her a look that would freeze fire. This is my girl and here she is offered something that will put her in danger when I just want to keep her safe. I feel the same regarding Robert but, well, this is different.

“If that’s okay with you, sir,” Gonzalez adds seeing my look.

“Pleeeease, sir,” Gonzalez continues mimicking Bri’s sad puppy dog look. My scowl vanishes and is replaced with a chuckle. I know I’ve been beaten and it wasn’t even that hard to do.

“Okay, but Gonzalez, she doesn’t go into buildings,” I say.

“Bri, you become permanently attached to her like you’re change in her pocket,” I add talking to Bri.

“Okay, Dad,” Bri replies with a grin.

Both her and Gonzalez walk off with Gonzalez’ arm still around Bri’s shoulder but not before I hear Gonzalez say, “See, just like I said, hold it close.” I shake my head having my complete lack of understanding women validated.

“Jack?” I hear Lynn, still behind me, question my decision.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s done,” I say and start inside once again. I feel sick to my stomach.

“You did the right thing,” Robert tells me as we head to the showers.

“I don’t know, Robert. I just don’t know,” I respond.

“Bri has done well in her training. I think she’ll surprise you. I know she has me,” he says to which I merely nod. This really, really sucks, I think as we open the locker room door.

We eat and the teams gather to head to the hospital. The sound of multiple metal doors shutting rebounds off the walls of our haven as we board Humvees. Pieces of machinery start up across our compound. In our little place in the world, sound accompanies a gathering of people bringing a little reality back into our existence. Driving out of the gate, our convoy turns north for Fort Lewis.

We pull onto the base and park near steel gates, similar to the ones Bannerman had built in our own wall. These aren’t nearly as wide but look forbidding nonetheless. The twenty foot concrete wall hides a lot of the hospital but the upper floors tower above the perimeter. The walls have been built around an oval road that encircles the complex. There is a giant lock on the bar holding the door shut. We undo the lock and open the heavy doors. Driving inside, I notice the gates have been constructed to be shut from the inside and out. Turning my gaze to the hospital, I am struck by the immensity of the place. If you’ve ever been to Madigan hospital, you’ll know exactly what I mean. The white, eight-story building in front shields a giant complex of buildings behind. I have driven by a couple of times but have never actually looked at it closely. Thus my, ‘why don’t we start here’ phrase the night before and Drescoll’s look.

There is absolutely no way we can take this place with the teams we have. We couldn’t clear this complex with ten times that. There is a multitude of supplies inside that we could really use but it looks like we may have to try a smaller hospital. The wall seems to have been a waste of time, I think climbing out of my Humvee at the administrative entrance. I’m sickened at the thought of wasting so much time and manpower to put it up. I should have known though seeing it’s one of the largest hospitals in the country. I just wasn’t thinking. I was too focused on the kids being back that I didn’t do a fair job of scouting it out before we started building the wall.

I look to the front doors and, of course, the glass panes are broken. I can’t even imagine how many night runners must be inside. I mean, there could only be ten but my imagination leads to thousands.

“Told ya it was big,” Drescoll says standing beside me. I’m sure he said that noticing my jaw hanging down to my knees. At least the enormity of it makes this one of the easiest decisions ever in my life.

“Well, I guess we’re not going in there,” I say to Lynn and Drescoll.

“We could get a diagram and find the pharmacy location. If it’s close, we could form a moving perimeter and get what we need,” Lynn suggests.

“Yeah, I suppose we could do something like that but we’ll have to plan that carefully. We definitely can’t go too far in or we could easily be cut off,” I say still in the mind that there’s no way we could step foot in this place.

“I’m thinking we should try someplace else. Like a small clinic or small-town hospital. They would have fewer night runners around and a place we could most likely clear,” I add still mesmerized by the size of this place.

“We could do that but if the stuff we need is near the entrance, then it’d be the same as going in any other place,” she says.

“True. Let’s drive around and see what we see. Let’s find the ER entrance and take a look. I’m still not going in without diagrams and a plan,” I say.

“Jack? Are you sure you’re okay?” Lynn asks chuckling. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. I mean, do you realize you actually used the word ‘plan?’ Did it really only take a fever to drive some sense into you? If I’d have known that was all it took, well….”

“You missed your calling doing stand-up,” I reply.

We head into the Humvees and drive around to the ER entrance. Several ambulances are parked in the large overhang of the entrance. We exit and I walk to the windows. The glass is broken here as well but either the rain or time has erased any sign of night runners. It used to be that the broken glass on the ground would be mixed with bloody footprints. I suppose the hospital could have been raided while the world was coming apart or after. That actually makes some sense. I step warily to the edge of the door.

The teams fan out around the entrance and the Humvee guns are manned. Lying on the tiled floor are the decayed remains of people. There really isn’t much left of them to decay other than some hair on the top of their heads. The rest has been stripped clean leaving just a few pieces of dried flesh and tendon clinging tenaciously to the bone. The clothes they once wore have been shredded and several of their bones lie a distance away from the rest of the bodies. Although the scene is similar to the one when I went into the hospital at McChord, the smell isn’t as bad as it was there. Time has seen to that.

The thought surfaces that this is a hospital and there could be so many other bodies lying inside. Diseases must be rampant. Of course I’m sure they must be in the same condition as the ones just inside the door if there are night runners present. A faint scent of body odor drifts out of the broken door. I nod; there are night runners inside. The smell replaces any lingering thought that the broken doors have been caused by raiders.

As with any building before, the light from the day fans a short distance across the linoleum floor. I step inside the door. The rest of the large room opens up. There are various pieces of artwork lining the walls with padded chairs and tables against the walls under them. Plants, wilted and brown, are set into corners and scattered about the room. They, at one time, must have given a more serene sight to this place of pain. I mean, that’s what an ER is. You don’t go to the ER if you’re feeling good just for a visit. And as far as I know, very few bingo games or family fun nights are held in emergency rooms.

A nurses’ station is situated against the far wall with swinging doors branching off the room in places. We could grab a diagram here, I think looking around the room for any sign of night runners lurking in corners. I’m still in the light so I feel relatively safe. The safety of daylight is just a couple of steps behind. I’m pretty amazed at how much light is actually penetrating as I can see most everything in crystal clarity. Yeah, it’s in shades of gray but I can make out magazines strewn on the checkered linoleum floor with some still opened on the tables in front of the chairs. It’s to the point that I think I have lowered my goggles. I reach up to raise them only to discover they are already set in the upward position. I look back to see Drescoll and Lynn hovering at the front door; silhouetted against the door with the light behind.

“Can you see the nurses’ station?” I ask.

“Jack, I can’t see shit past the first twenty feet,” Lynn answers. “Use your goggles.”

“Oh yeah, duh,” I reply covering the fact that I can see pretty well without them.

“Jack, are you sure you’re okay?” Lynn asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just still stunned about the size of the place,” I say trying to cover an uneasiness that has come over me.

I turn back around before lowering the goggles. The room is like it was; in shades of gray. I lower the goggles and turn them on. The room brightens more but only incrementally and the gray changes to green. The shock I feel has nothing to do with the enormity of the complex. I really don’t know what to make of it. I lift the goggles and they shut off. Gray replaces green but that’s about the extent of it. I’m not sure I should tell anyone.

“You can use mine if yours aren’t working,” Drescoll says.

“No, I’m good,” I reply. I really don’t trust myself to speak and don’t know what to do or think about this. What the fuck happened to me?

I have a clue but I’m not about to voice it even to myself. It’s like thinking about it will bring it into reality and I’m not sure I want to do that. I can literally feel my body shaking. The filters in my mind shut out my completely focusing on it, but shit, what else is there possibly to think about that has a higher priority in my head? I hear a very faint shriek echo within the vast interior. Well, that has a higher priority, I think hearing the scream die away. It was very faint and seemed to come from the depths of the building.

“Okay, let’s get two teams in and let me see what’s at the desk,” I say.

I look at the enormity of the room and the many doors leading out. “Make that three,” I say. “I think someone knows we’re here. We have to make this quick.”

“How do you know we’ve been discovered? Oh never mind. I don’t want to know,” Lynn says and turns to Drescoll. “Go get Black, Blue, and Red teams.”

That’s not a good combo of colors, I think watching Drescoll walk quickly away from the doors. Wait, Red Team? No, wait, I think and am about to say something to Lynn before checking myself. This is only to the desk and back and the exit lies scant feet away. It’s as good an introduction as any and you can’t get much safer inside a building. The fear that momentarily struck my heart, and to be honest, still sits there, is because Bri is supposed to be attached to Gonzalez. Again that ‘no right decision quandary.’ Sure enough, Red Team approaches and there’s Bri right next to Gonzalez. I see the nervousness in Bri’s eyes. Or maybe it’s my own nervousness projecting outward.

Bri stands next to Gonzalez and Robert covering a section of the big parking lot. Her M-4 still is a comfort but this is the first time she’s been out as a member of a team. It was all training until now. Sure, she’s been around night runners during their trek across the world and felt the fear of those long nights, but this is the first as part of a team; honorary or not.

To Bri, Gonzalez looks relaxed but intent on scanning the area and Bri tries to mimic her. If she looks relaxed on the outside, it certainly doesn’t translate to the way she feels inside. She feels a tightness in her stomach and is apprehensive. She knows she can put a bullet on target but what if something does happen. Will she freeze? After all, the targets don’t shoot back or try to eat you. She looks to see the same relaxation in Robert. There is tension around his eyes but to all intents and purposes, he looks like he’s thinking about his favorite pizza. He’s alert but it’s a relaxed alertness.

“Don’t worry, Bri, we’re all nervous. It’s normal,” Gonzalez says beside her as if she has read Bri’s thoughts. Robert looks over at her and gives her a verifying nod.

The words comfort her and she feels like she can relax a little. Not much, but some. She still feels tight inside. Her thoughts go back to her training and she visualizes the scenarios Lynn put forth. She relives each one and what her reaction should be. Mostly, she will be keeping close to Gonzalez. That much her dad was very clear about. She actually feels a sense of pride fill her kneeling beside Gonzalez and Robert and being a part of a team. Not just any team but her dad’s team.

She sees Gonzalez turn as Drescoll arrives. “Jack is gathering Red, Blue, and Black teams to go inside. They’re at the entrance door,” he says.

“Okay, we’re on our way,” Gonzalez says and the entire teams rises.

Bri doesn’t get up with them as she’s not sure if she should be going or if being just an honorary member, as Gonzalez put it, means not going into buildings. That part her dad was equally clear about.

“Come on,” Gonzalez says clearing up Bri’s doubt about what she should do.

Bri catches up with Gonzalez. “I seriously doubt your dad will let you go in but if he does, you stay close to my left side. Always,” Gonzalez says.

Drescoll looks at Bri joining Red Team. He’s not sure if he should say something or not but then shrugs and heads over to relay Jack’s request to Horace’s team.

They arrive at the entrance doors where Black Team has already gathered. Bri sees her dad standing just inside the doors having a conversation with Lynn. He looks at her and then resumes talking and pointing to places within the building. She can’t tell what the look meant if anything. He seems a little distant, she thinks as his gaze leaves hers and glances quickly at Robert before turning back to Lynn. Her anxiety increases. So, this is what it’s like just prior to going in a building, she thinks feeling everyone’s tension.

Horace arrives with the rest of Blue Team. Lynn then outlines the layout of the room.

“Red Team enters first and takes up a position thirty feet in and covers ahead. Make sure all of the doors are covered. Black is in next and to the right. Blue, to the left. Jack is going to the desk at the far end to find a building diagram. If anything happens, cover the room until Jack is through our lines then withdraw to where the floor is lit and back out,” Lynn says.

Bri rises with the rest of Red Team. “Bri, stay here with Drescoll,” Lynn says. Bri’s shoulders slump a little but she understands. She actually wants to go in with the team. She feels that steely part, which was prevalent on the firing range, settle in.

“It’s okay, Lynn, let her go with her team. We’re only just a step inside,” Bri hears her dad say.

She watches as Lynn shoots him a look which he ignores. Lynn gives her a nod towards where Red Team is gathered at the door with the broken glass. Lynn takes Gonzalez aside for a moment but Bri can’t hear any of the conversation. She’s pretty sure what the gist of the talk is about though. She feels small and doesn’t like the feeling. Her heart is thudding hard as Gonzalez rejoins them.

“Okay, you heard Lynn. Red Team, stay to the right a touch so you don’t shoot me in the ass,” her dad says.

“I think they’re onto us. Let’s move,” her dad adds.

With a nod from her dad, Red Teams enters. Bri stays close to Gonzalez as she enters. The darkness beyond the first few feet is complete. Bri reaches up and brings her goggles down. The room lights up in a green glow. She sees Gonzalez go down on her knees and Bri slides down beside her. She hears Robert slide into position beside her a short distance away. He lifts his M-4 and concentrates on the several doors to their immediate front. Adrenaline courses through her as she brings her own weapon up lining up the IR dot on one of the doors. She sees the thin beams of the lasers move about the far wall and doors. Duh, she thinks reaching up and turning her own IR laser on.

“You and I will cover that main door,” Gonzalez says in her ear and points. Bri’s own thin line of light settles next to Gonzalez’. She listens as instructions are given to the other team members.

A rush of boots and swish of clothing fills the room as the other two teams enter behind. So, this is what it’s like? Bri thinks as the sounds stop and the room goes silent. She watches as her dad walks slowly to the counter close to the wall ahead and to her left. He has his M-4 up and ready. She feels her skin prickle with each small crack or groan of the building. Her imagination turns each sound into the start of night runner hordes pouring through the doors like she’s heard in the stories others have told. She knows it’s just the building heating up with the warming of the day but that knowledge doesn’t stop her skin from jumping with each one.

She looks down at the floor and sees a decaying body between her and Robert. Revulsion grips her insides but then she becomes intrigued and looks closer. It’s just a rib cage with the head still attached. The medium-length hair on top of its head doesn’t hide the white facial bones lying at an angle to her. The mouth is open as if in an eternal scream and shreds of skin are still attached in places. The grisly sight is almost too much but it has her attention as she wonders what it — she can’t tell if it’s was a male or female — did in life before all this happened. Did it meet a sudden and gruesome end as it looks or fall dead before being eaten? What dreams in life did it have? She shakes her head and looks back to the door.

The teams rush in and I see Bri hustle in behind Gonzalez, settling in right beside her and next to Robert. It’s just a quick in and out, I think watching. It’ll give her an idea of what it’s like inside a darkened night runner lair. I don’t have quite the warm, fuzzy feeling these thoughts indicate because I also have a feeling our entrance is known if the distant screams are indicative of anything. I mean, do night runners cry out in their sleep or have nightmares? I hear a repeat of that muted shriek. It seems to be closer than the last but it isn’t accompanied by the cacophony that I’ve come to know.

With everyone in place, I step forward into a room filled with dancing beams of light. I have both of the kids inside a night runner lair. I’m not comfortable with that idea and not really sure how it came to be. I do know I should kick my own ass but on the other hand, they do need to learn. I walk to the left of Red Team kneeling on the floor and up to the counter. Behind it are two more bodies lying on the floor next to chairs that look like they’ve been kicked to random places. The whole of the interior speaks of past mayhem. I can only imagine what it must have been like to be in here in the final hours. The desk itself is a mess of papers and charts. Another howl; closer this time. I brush papers off the desk frantically trying to find a diagram or directory of some sort. It’s not that important of a piece of info so I’m outta here if they do get close. I hear the pounding of feet just as I see a tan binder at the far end of the counter.

“They’re coming,” I say feeling my boot step on one of the bodies.

Bri glances at her dad as he starts rifling through whatever is behind the raised portion of the counter. He looks up and toward the door she and Gonzalez are covering. He glances back down at the counter and, from the looks of it, starts sweeping things off an unseen shelf. The next words send the adrenaline in her body into overdrive and bring rivulets of sweat to her brow.

“They’re coming.”

Her mind tells her to rise and flee. There’s a night runner horde on the way and it will engulf them; sweep over them like an unrelenting tide. The beating of her heart is so loud it should be shaking the building and she can feel the pulse of it in every fiber of her being. She glances at Gonzalez and notices the relaxed aspect has disappeared leaving behind a very steely expression. Her lips are tight and she is focused on the door a few feet in front of them. She glances to her dad and sees him dart to the other side of the counter. What does he see or is he running from something? He stumbles but recovers.

A look to Robert and she sees the same tense expression. The goggles cover his eyes but she can imagine they match the tightness of his mouth. She can hear the pounding of feet and screams issuing from behind the door. Why aren’t the teams running to get out of here? She thinks and then remembers they are waiting for her dad to get back behind them. Hurry up, Dad! A mighty bang startles her out of her thoughts.

The swinging wooden doors burst open as if by a sudden tornado. “Fire,” Bri hears Gonzalez shout. The doors banging open, Gonzalez’ shout, and the sight of night runners, pale in the green glow of the goggles, threaten to sweep her away. So many shocks at once. She feels frozen and doesn’t know what to do. This is so different than her vision of wanting to kill every night runner in existence she had such a short time ago. The kick against her shoulder feels foreign and at first, she doesn’t recognize it for what it is. Another one and she is just as surprised as when the night runners entered to find herself firing into their midst. She realizes she has been firing since the shout from Gonzalez.

Her mind settles to some extent but there is still the feeling of being overwhelmed. She doesn’t feel the kick anymore and has the dawning realization that she is out of ammo. Her mind settles even more as she ejects the mag and reaches for another. Burst fire, fire in bursts, Lynn’s instruction comes to her. Lynn had instilled that time and time again during their training. Trigger control. Bri realizes she’s burned through her entire mag without letting up on the trigger.

Slamming a fresh mag into the lower receiver, she hears the tinkling of expended brass as it scatters across the floor. The sight of so many night runners to her front, trying to pour into the room, almost brings the panic, held just barely below the surface, back up. She lays her dot on the horde at the door being met with a hail of steel as the other teams join in. Well, the one to their right anyway. A flash goes through her mind that this is because her dad is backing away from the counter and towards the door from the counter on her left, adding his own rounds to the mix. His position is preventing the team to her left from engaging. She realizes that her dad is actually angling toward her and Red Team.

Night runners are piling up on the floor at the door. Her mind calms. She pulls the trigger in short bursts; this time finding and focusing on individual targets rather than just firing a stream of bullets into their midst. She sees her dot settle on one face and she squeezes. The face vanishes behind a burst of something splashing in the air. She realizes it is blood and registers the fact that she has killed her first night runner. Sure she fired a whole mag into them but this is the first that registers in her mind; that she actually records as a memory.

Several night runners make it past the doorway and branch off to the sides. Bri alters the direction of her barrel and feels her finger press against the trigger. One of them falls to her rounds but others make it by. She continues firing into those that slide along the wall attempting to get around them. She has forgotten the fast beating of her heart and nervousness. The fear is still there but now is associated with action so it stays below the surface. There are only targets. She hears the muted barks of Gonzalez’ and Robert’s carbines to her side but those are only informational thoughts. She’s in a different world.

“Get out now!” She vaguely hears her dad yell as she fires at another night runner streaking along the wall in front. It slams against the wall as her rounds find the mark. She looks up to see her dad standing next to her, his boots straddling the dead one’s open-jawed head.

“Gonzalez, move back now. Robert, Bri, move!” Her dad shouts.

Bri becomes aware of the sheer number of night runners in the hall beyond the doors being held open by the bodies of the dead and injured. Many have also made it to the sides of the room but are taken down by the teams to the side and behind her. The dread of seeing so many night runners and the danger of her situation intrudes upon the other world she was in. She responds to the urgency of her dad’s voice and rises with the rest of Red Team. Together, they back towards the door still adding rounds into the fray. Bri stops firing when she sees her dad directly in front of her. It’s then that she notices the floor in front of her lit by the light coming in the door. Bri feels a tap on her shoulder.

She turns and sees Gonzalez motion her out of the door. Drescoll and Lynn are at the door guiding everyone out. Besides her dad, Red Team are the last ones still inside. Bri turns and runs out of the door followed by Robert and the rest of Red Team. Her dad is the last one out. Roars, howls, and shrieks pour out of the door with them. They’ve made it.

Bri’s awareness returns and she realizes she’s panting. She feels like she’s run for an hour and can’t catch her breath. Bending over, with her hands on her knees, she feels an arm around her. She doesn’t feel nauseous but vomits anyway. The eruption is sudden and unexpected.

“Happens to all of us the first time,” she hears Gonzalez say. “It’s the adrenaline.”

She feels another arm fold around her. “Are you okay?” She hears her dad ask.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m okay,” she answers wiping saliva from her chin.

“You should’ve seen this little warrior in action, sir. She took down the entire front line of night runners on her own as soon as they broke in,” Gonzalez says to her dad. “I’m not sure I’d even finished yelling ‘fire’ when I heard her gun start chattering.”

Her eyes light up with this little bit of unknown news. She had no idea. Her heart swells hearing Gonzalez call her a little warrior. She hears Robert tell her nice job and her heart swells a little more. If she could only remember; it all happened so quickly. Henderson and Denton add their kudos. “That was a lot like Robert during his first action,” she hears McCafferty say. “You two are kin.”

She looks up into the face of her dad standing before her. He is giving her a look over to see if she is in fact alright. He has always been protective of her and Robert in a loving way. Not too overly protective as he also lets them get into trouble at times. Nothing dangerous although some of the stories Robert shared of his and her dad’s time after a weekend together made her doubt some of that ‘not too dangerous’ aspects though. There were times when he was a little overly protective but those were infrequent. She feels this is one of those times and loves him for it.

“Jack,” she hears Lynn call. A momentary flash of fear crosses her dad’s face. Her dad looks behind him as if looking for a place to hide. Shrieks can still be heard emitting from inside the ER.

“We can’t call you a noob anymore,” Robert says as her dad walks away towards Lynn.

Needless to say, the ass-chewing by Lynn wasn’t pleasant but all-in-all, it wasn’t bad. I’ve had worse. My kids and everyone are okay and that’s what matters. The tan binder I found contains diagrams of the facility but I don’t know what good they’ll be. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to use the place. We won’t be able to clear this place short of using an entire battalion and that’s still even odds. I think of the hordes that poured in the door and both of my kids in the room. The memory still leaves me shaky. Yeah, Lynn’s ass-chewing wasn’t without validity. I told her they needed to learn and accumulate some experience but both she and I know that was just me making excuses. Part of what I said is true about wanting to give Bri some experience but not against a horde like that right off. Thankfully, the door was close and we could exit quickly.

I look over the parking lot and the expanse of the buildings. I’m standing with the others in our group and about to have everyone saddle up.

“Dad,” Robert says.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask thinking he wants to talk about the action or even my bringing Bri inside. Maybe to give some assurance that I did the right thing in letting her go or coming to Bri’s defense in some manner. None of my thoughts about what he wants pan out.

“If those walls,” he starts pointing the concrete wall surrounding the hospital, “can keep night runners out, won’t they keep them in too?”

The sheer brilliance of his unspoken idea, or I should say the sheer lack of my own, explodes in my mind like a firecracker. Duh, I think. The others stare at him as if saying the same thing and having their own epiphanies. Such a simple yet brilliant concept and one that completely slid by everyone present.

“You, my son, are absolutely right and brilliant,” I say. We’ll just keep the night runners locked up in here and visit in a few weeks after they’ve starved to death. Well, I hope it’s a few weeks and they don’t have some super hibernation skill that allows them to live indefinitely without food.

We head back to base. Next on the agenda is going out to look for the families of the soldiers who fit within the parameters. We’ll have to reorganize one of the teams so we’ll have two teams going out. All of Red Team is going but the others are scattered among the other teams. I may have another team go as added security. I’d like to get going soon. I’ll talk with the team members about where we need to go and begin flight planning. And yes, my kids are going because it’s damn tough to fly a 130 alone. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss our opportunity.

Talking with Bannerman that night, we make plans to hit the distribution centers upon our return as we have enough to keep us going for a little while. Not through the winter, but a while longer.

I sit with Lynn, Robert, Bri, and Red Team that night for dinner. The kids usually eat with their mom but with the action of the day, they seem to want to spend it with their team. There are a certain amount of war stories told with some embellishments. Well, maybe those were my own. A flash of a picture goes through my mind.

I look up from the fork that is half way to my mouth. Sure I have pictures and thoughts in my head all of the time. This is different. I don’t know how to describe it other than to say it isn’t my own. More flash through and I have a momentary feeling like I’m going crazy; you know, the voices in your head thing. But this is more than that. I can understand what they’re saying. I know, weird, but the pictures are like a language and I know what they are saying. It’s just an occasional flash but it’s clear nonetheless.

“Are you okay, Jack?” Lynn asks.

I don’t answer but rise and walk downstairs to the front door. I hear Lynn following with the “Jack, are you listening? I know you can hear me.” I wave her question away with my hand and hold a finger to my lips when we reach the door.

There, there it is again. It’s like I’m hearing part of a conversation. I can actually feel where it’s coming from. I know, this is weirding me out as well. I stand at the door with my head tilted; listening.

“Jack, what the hell is going on?” Lynn finally intrudes on my wish for quiet.

“They’ve cornered a small pack of dogs,” I answer.