A New World [7] Takedown (26 page)

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Authors: John O'Brien

BOOK: A New World [7] Takedown
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The soldiers each take a child by the hand. Some have to shoulder their weapons and take a kid in each hand. The young ones look anxious as they can’t see in the dark. I can imagine the fear they must be feeling considering what they have gone through coupled with their inability to see or hear. Moments later, they are organized as best they can.

“I’d hurry if I were you, Jack. We’re beginning to get a few restless ones emerging into the hall from the far end,” Greg radios.

“Same here,” Gonzalez reports.

“We need to go,” I tell Reynolds.

“We’re ready,” she replies.

“Take them down the stairs and meet up with the others. They’ll guide you out. Watch out for the bodies on the stairs. There’s a small path cleared near the outer wall. Stay alert for any that are only injured. We should have taken care of them but you never know. No matter what happens, keep pushing for the front entrance. Speed is our friend here,” I state.

“Are you good?” I ask Robert.

“Yeah, I’m not liking this much, but I’m good to go,” he answers.

“By the way, thanks for that on the stairs,” I say.

“Yeah. That was pretty messed up…and fucking scary when the night runner was on us. I thought we were done for.”

“I wasn’t overly happy with that either. You ready for this?”

“Not really, but I don’t see that we have much choice,” he answers.

“Let’s get this done then. We’re picking up Gonzalez and the others on our way. Like I told Reynolds, no matter what happens, keep pushing for the Stryker.”

“Okay, Dad.”

With that, Robert and I step aside to allow the group of soldiers and kids to pass. We take up station behind and back pedal slowly keeping our attention focused down the wide, long hallway. So far, it remains clear. How long that continues is anyone’s guess. With Greg and Gonzalez beginning to see night runners emerge from the far staircase, it doesn’t bode well.

My anxiety increases exponentially as Robert and I reach the corner of stairwell. Flashes of light bounce off the walls below us indicating that Gonzalez and her group are engaged. My heart rate surges. We’re not out of this yet and things became infinitely more complicated having to lead the kids through this mess. Reynolds’ group is held up on the stairs as they negotiate the basically blind and deaf kids through and around the bodies.

Perhaps sensing their prey is about to leave, the night runners explode into action. Shrieks increase in volume, rebounding down the hall both on our floor and below us as they pour into the halls. They are empty one moment and then filled with their ghostly faces the next as they begin to race down the corridors toward us.

“Reynolds, we need to move now,” I call.

“We’re about through the first set of stairs,” she replies.

“You need to step up the pace. Pick them up if you have to, but it’s about to get real sporty in here,” I says.

“We’re linking up with the others now,” she states.

“Starting down the stairs,” Henderson reports.

The increase of flashes from Gonzalez tells me that more night runner have entered the second floor hall. Greg reports that he is heavily engaged as well. It’s past time we became like The Flash and beat cheeks out of here. As of yet, Robert and I haven’t seen any night runners appear on the landing above us but it’s only a matter of time before they do – that time measured in seconds if the sound of the night runners rushing down the hall is any indication.

As Robert and I reach the intermediate landing between the second and third floor, the first of the night runners appear above. We have to back pedal slowly due to the last of Reynolds’ group still traversing the narrow path. Having to negotiate this has strung them out. When the shrieks decrease in volume for brief periods of time, I hear the children sobbing as they are led through the darkness.

“Move and fire. A fighting withdrawal. Watch your footing,” I yell to Robert.

“Gotcha,” he says, firing into the night runners behind us.

Night runners fall to the floor and stairs as Robert and I send burst after burst into their midst. It’s treacherous footing as we back down the restricted path. Each step down narrows our field of view upstairs but we manage to keep the advance of the horde at bay. They gain a little distance when we have to reload our mags, which are becoming scarcer as we cycle rounds through our chambers.

Reaching the second floor, I see that Reynolds and her group are making better headway on the lower stairs. Looking at Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri, lined across the hallway and heavily engaged, I notice night runners filling the hall shoulder to shoulder and attempting to race down the corridor. Bodies lie on the floor with more dropping as the trio pour out concentrated fire. The overwhelming numbers of night runners, however, dictate that the current status quo will change soon.

“Gonzalez, time to go. Robert and I will bring up the rear,” I shout.

She, McCafferty, and Bri cease firing and turn toward the stairs. Robert and I pick up their fire and walk backwards, sending rounds downrange. We’re not trying to eliminate them, just keep some breathing space as we make our way out. That breathing space, however, is shrinking by the second.

 
“Keep them at bay. Go full auto if you have to,” I yell to Robert as I reach down and pull out two hand grenades.

Quickly pulling the pins and holding one in each hand, I toss them into the hall ahead of the advancing horde.

“Go!” I yell.

Without waiting to watch where they land, I turn to bolt around the corner and enter the stairs with Robert at my side.

“Greg, we’re coming on the run and bringing company,” I radio.

The grenades go off with a thundering, simultaneous explosion, lighting up the hall like a sun going nova. Smoke roils past the opening. The stairs shake as the shockwave is transmitted throughout the building. I hope that gained us a sufficient margin of safety to make it to the others below and to the Stryker.

On the first floor, still walking quickly backward, I glance over my shoulder toward the entrance. Strobes light the hall where Greg’s team is engaging night runners coming from the far stairs. Greg has arranged his small team on the far side of the entrance hallway and is directing the soldiers and kids toward the waiting Stryker. Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri are just in front of Robert and me as they make for the armored vehicle and safety. They aren’t racing but hanging back in case Robert and I need assistance keeping the night runners off our backs.

A short distance down the hall, with no sign of night runners emerging from the stairwell, I turn and begin picking up the pace when I hear Robert say, “Cover me.”

I turn around and see a little girl standing in the hall just outside the opening of the stairway. She is standing there looking in all directions, obviously confused and scared. I have no clue how she managed to get there or where she was previously. Robert, without waiting for an answer from me, races down the hall toward her.

 

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The push into the building and up the upstairs has been one scary scene after another. The sight of the hordes of night runners sent a surge of adrenaline and fear through him that was almost overwhelming. The sights, sounds, and intensity just about overcame his senses, especially when the night runner slammed into and then fell on him and his dad. That was terrifying, yet, they managed to extricate themselves with the help of Denton. Through it all, Robert managed to maintain a very fragile grip on his fear. The sheer intensity of it all helped keep his mind occupied.

Yeah, the night has been a hard fight but we are finally making our way to the Stryker. I can’t wait for this to be over
, he thinks, glancing behind him for any sign of night runners appearing.

The sight of a little girl emerging from the stairwell startles him. He stares in disbelief.

How the fuck did she get there?
he thinks, looking at the girl who was somehow left behind. She is crying and looking wildly in all directions, obviously frightened.

“Cover me,” he yells to his dad, and, without thinking, he races back down the hall toward the confused and stationary child.

As he runs toward the little girl, he sees her start down the hall in his direction and then slumps to the ground, obviously unsure where to go. Just before reaching her, night runners emerge from the stairwell behind her. He slows his run and begins delivering short, controlled bursts into the closest ones attempting to keep them from the crying girl on the floor. His rounds streak over her head and impact forcefully into the lead night runners, sending them to the ground or into the ones behind. Step…fire…step…fire…

Reaching the girl ahead of the night runners, and with them scant feet away, he goes to his knees and scoops up the girl with one arm while continuing to pump rounds into the horde with his M-4 held in the other. Amidst the shrieks, he hears feet thumping down the stairs just around the corner. More night runners will soon be joining in the fray. His heart races as he starts dashing back down the hall, his progress slowed by having to both carry the child and keep the night runners at bay.

Having to fire one-handed and behind him causes his aim to be off. A night runner launches out of the pack and slams into him, sending him flying to the ground with the creature falling heavily on him and wrapped around his legs. He hits the ground hard, jarring his senses, and loses his grip on both the carbine and the girl. The M-4 clatters across the floor out of reach. The girl falls in front of him and stares at him wildly with wide, frightened eyes.

“Go,” he shouts, pointing down the hall toward the others and safety.

She must have seen him somehow and understood as she quickly gathers herself and rushes off. Robert feels a moment of satisfaction as he watches her sprint away. That feeling is short-lived, however, as he becomes aware of the weight on the back of his legs. The night runner on him is pawing at his lower legs. He kicks out at it in an attempt to clear himself and feels a red, searing pain shoot up his leg as teeth sink into him. He screams as white-hot agony fills his mind.

He frees a leg and kicks again, connecting with the night runner, but its grip is too strong and it doesn’t let go. Survival mode kicks up a notch. He reaches down and withdraws the Beretta at his side. Pushing through the burning sensation in his leg, he shakily points the sidearm at the night runner and pulls the trigger.

The creature goes limp and becomes dead weight as the 9mm round enters the top of its head. The bullet tears through the skull and enters the soft tissue beneath. Shards of bone follow in its path doing even more damage. The extra damage, however, is moot as the bullet does its destructive job. It drives through the brain and slams into the base of the skull, punching out of the lower back of the night runner’s head with a clotty spray of gore.

Worried about the other night runners, he pushes the pain aside and begins to extricate himself from under the body when he feels something grab his vest and begin pulling. He feels himself being dragged along the floor and registers light flashing off the walls around him.

 

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Before I can react, Robert takes off down the hall.

“Gonzalez, get her to the Stryker,” I yell, pushing Bri in that direction.

Without waiting for a “hooah” or whatever response she might make, I turn and race after Robert. The girl, perhaps sensing which direction to go, begins walking toward him. She only makes it a few steps before collapsing to the floor. My heart almost leaps out of my chest when I see night runners emerge from the stairs behind the girl. I see Robert slow and start delivering rounds into the mass. He’s in the middle of the hall so I’m not able to get a clear lane of fire which increases my fear beyond measure. I shout after him to stop but my call falls short due to the screams of the night runners that pack the hall like a physical presence.

I watch helplessly as Robert fights his way to the crying girl and scoops her up in his arms. He then begins making his way back, firing behind him one-handed. With horror, I watch as a night runner crashes into his back, sending him to the ground. Time slows. I watch his fall in slow motion. The small girl falls from his arms to land on her rear and slides a short distance. Robert loses his grip on his M-4. It sails through the air, impacting the floor with a clatter and scoots across the linoleum, coming to rest against one of the walls. My mind goes blank as I see a night runner on the back of his legs. Reaction takes over with no thought or feeling other than intense fear.

The night runners pouring from the stairs are just feet away from Robert and it’s only a matter of seconds before he is engulfed by them. Flipping the selector switch to semi, I begin firing rounds into the night runners threatening my son. I can’t get a clean shot on the one on his legs, but that will change as I draw closer. Right now, I have to keep the other night runners from tearing him apart.

Continuing to run forward, I line up head shot after head shot. Night runners fall with each one. I see Robert point down the hall and see the girl take off, running quickly by me toward the entrance. Paying her little heed, I continue to deliver rounds and make my way toward Robert. I feel like I’m walking through water as the distance closes far too slowly. I then hear what I dreaded the most – Robert screaming in pain.

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