A New World: Sanctuary (15 page)

“Nice shot, Cressman.
 
All teams, continue your movement,” I say after a moment of surveying the area and realizing we haven’t raised the ire of any night runners.

“Thank you, sir,” Cressman replies.

“That was louder than I thought,” Robert, standing beside me, whispers in my ear.

“Yeah, it’s always louder inside.
 
Natural outside noise and a more open area always makes it seem quieter,” I whisper back.

Green, Black, Charlie and Delta make it to the half-way point towards the rear of the store when Cressman whispers once again in the radio that she has spotted another night runner, this one on the balcony above and to the right.
 
I quickly halt the teams in place and snap my head in the direction she indicated.
 
Again, several thin beams converge and dance on the night runner standing by the second floor railing on the right side.
 
The gray-skinned creature, seeming to glow in my goggles, lifts its nose in the air and snaps its head to the right.
 
It leaves the railing quickly and trots over to where the first night runner was, disappearing from view.
 
All of this happens too quickly to issue a command to fire.

A loud shriek reverberates within the interior; the night runner has discovered its fallen comrade.
 
Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later
, I think waiting for events to unfold.
 
Time comes to a halt.
 
The last vestiges of the scream echoes throughout and a palpable tension grips the air.
 
The release of adrenaline from the fifty-four soldiers standing and kneeling in various positions can almost be sensed.
 
My own heart kick starts with a boom.
 
It’s game time and the opening kickoff is away.

Choruses of screams suddenly erupt from the darker depths of the building; the first shriek, fading off, just a prelude to the rising symphony.
 
The escalation of noise is like a ghostly crowd cheering a touchdown in an enclosed stadium; however, the sound is piercing rather than booming.

“Everyone hold positions and focus on your areas.
 
Cleared to engage at will,” I say searching the upper and lower levels for movement; knowing it will not be long in coming.

“Night runners on the top floor,” Cressman calls over the radio.

I catch glimpses of numerous shapes darting from right to left along the second floor on the far side; possibly heading toward the escalator.
 
A host of night runners suddenly appear at the upper balcony, both ahead and to the far right, pausing momentarily before vaulting the rail and leaping to the first floor.
 
The sound of clothing racks falling to the floor or thrust aside rises out of the din of the yells.
 
Flashes of light emit from Bravo Team as they begin firing into the night runners pouring like a waterfall over the balcony railing; the coughs from their suppressed M-4’s add to the many noises filling the interior.

Bravo’s rounds collide with the horde streaming over the railing, knocking many askew of their downward path but many more of the shrieking beasts reach the first floor unscathed.
 
The loud coughs and metallic clinks of expelled rounds hitting the tile to their sides are continuous; the only pause of fire with each member is with the changing of empty mags for full ones.

“Delta, wheel left.
 
They’re coming over the balcony edge.
 
Charlie, cover to their rear,” I shout into the radio.

I see intermediate flashes of light coming from the right under the overhang as Delta begins to engage the host making it past the curtain of fire put up by Bravo.
 
The flashes and an increase of sounds ring out from the right as Delta and Charlie find themselves under a sudden rush of night runners.

“Night runners on the first floor coming from the rear,” Mullins calls out over the radio.

The soldiers from Alpha start firing at night runners beginning to make their way down the escalator stairs to the left rear; with some vaulting down over the left side balcony.

“Lynn, orient to your right.
 
Can you get an angle on the ones coming over the balcony?”
 
I call pressing the mic button amidst this rapid and sudden onslaught.

“No.
 
The stairs and a wall of some sort are blocking our line of vision,” she answers.

“We’re starting to get night runners on the first floor on the left,” Drescoll calls.

I see quick flashes of light bouncing off the ceiling in Lynn and Drescoll’s direction as they begin engaging night runners coming down the left flank; the sound of their shots add to the din of the battle.
 
Night runners continue leaping over the railings on the right and the far side by the corner of the balcony.
 
It’s a tide that Bravo Team cannot hope to stop and can only put a small dent into.

“Echo, peel off three to help Bravo,” I say.

I would divert more but the last thing we need right now is night runners dropping directly into our base of fire.
 
Greg turns and taps three members of his team.
 
They peel off and turn, joining Bravo Team and add their additional fire into the jumping masses.
 
Thin lines of light extend out from Bravo into the avalanche of bodies.
 
Some within the horde fall sideways with shrieks of pain and fall to the floor with hard thumps, injured or dead.

Alpha is pouring fire into the ones trying to get down via the escalator but their massed fire is holding the night runners at bay for the moment.
 
The small amount of night runners that do make it over the side run directly into Black Team and are brought down.
 
The muzzles of Blue Team covering the near stairs send their deadly projectiles upward as small groups of night runners appear at the top of the stairs.
 
The wall of steel they lay down doesn’t allow a single creature to make it to the first step.
 
The ones that appear at the top are propelled backwards, vanishing out of sight into the dark recesses of the second floor.

The laser aiming devices from Bravo and Alpha are steady as they fire into their appointed areas.
 
The lights from Charlie and Delta wave around on the right as they seek out targets and defend themselves; the poor visibility from the numerous clothes on that side making it difficult to have clear lanes of fire.
 
I see the same on the left with Black and Green Teams although to a lesser extent.
 
The rapid development of the firefight and the limited visibility makes it difficult to determine exactly what we are facing on the first floor.
 
The time from discovery to this point of determined defense has been short; only a matter of moments.

I would like to throw Red Team into the fray but am worried by what I don’t yet know or see.
 
Becoming engaged will make us unavailable should something crop up that needs our immediate attention.
 
If something were to happen and no one was available, our line could quickly fail and we could find ourselves trapped in small pockets of defense which could be easily overwhelmed.
 
The carbines from the three Echo Team members remaining begin flashing at intervals as they keep our backside clear on the second floor.
 
A body falls into view, dropping from the near-side balcony and lands in front of Red Team with a thud so hard it is both heard and felt.
 
Red Team startles and all weapons immediately round to the body but it doesn’t move or rise from the cream-colored linoleum.

The surge of night runners flowing over the far railings is steady.
 
We have walked into a hornets nest with hundreds of them in here.
 
The short minutes of our fight seem both elongated and compressed.
 
Night runners pile high on the escalator stairs as Alpha renders that area a deadly place to venture.
 
The bodies tumble over the others as new groups appear, attempting to get down to us, and come to rest at angles on the metal stairs.
 
Some fall all of the way down to the very bottom.
 
Others slump as if they are taking a seat and resting on the cool aluminum and steel.

A few bodies have tumbled part way down the near stairs, lying sideways on the wide, light-colored wooden steps.
 
Some lay face down with their arms outstretched as if trying to fly.
 
One lies with its leg bent forward and its toes almost in its mouth; its femur broken either from the fall or an impacting round.
 
Even in the green of the goggles, I see rivulets of blood running over the edges of the steps, where the night runners lie, and pooling on the steps below.

A faint haze hovers over our line from the volume of fire; not seen in clarity through my goggles but observed more as a blurring of objects.
 
The firefight being waged inside our desired sanctuary is an assault on the senses.
 
The smell of gunpowder fills in the air along with the reek of bodies being torn asunder.
 
Internals are being ripped apart and exposed along with bowels being emptied.
 
The sight of night runners pouring toward our positions and soldiers firing to stem the tide.
 
The fine lines of light dancing about the green-lit interior and the sharper flashes of strobes.
 
The loud coughs from over fifty carbines firing and their echo off the concrete walls mixes with the shrieks and howls of the multitude of night runners.
 
Shouts from the soldiers of “reloading,” “to the right” or “to the left” and other commands or warnings rise above the din.

A loud, human scream issues from the right side over the interior noise.
 
This is followed immediately by another high-pitched scream but definitely human, or rather non-night runner.
 
I walk to the right behind Red Team to get a better picture of events over that way, telling Robert to stay in position.
 
I see a lot of the clothes racks have been thrown to the floor and night runners moving quickly through and over them as they hit the floor from above and launch themselves towards Delta and Charlie Teams.

From my new vantage point, I see some of Delta and it appears they have correctly oriented themselves towards the middle of the building and the night runners leaping from the overhead balcony.
 
The night runners are almost among them with more pressing hard behind those in front.
 
I see a surge among the mass and another scream of pain and fear rises above the noise.

“They’re in amongst Delta.
 
They’re being overrun,” Mullins shouts over the radio.

Standing by the cash register stands, I see heads from a dense mob of night runners over the clothing racks that remain standing.
 
They are in the area where Delta had been positioned and surging toward Charlie.
 
Some of the heads disappear below the stands and I assume those are dropping to where the some of the members of Delta have fallen.
 
I can’t see any of Delta remaining.
 
Charlie now has night runners to the front and side.

“Charlie, Delta, pull back to the cashier stands,” I shout into the radio witnessing Charlie about to be overrun.

“Negative, we’re going for Delta,” Mullins calls back.

“No!
 
You’ll be surrounded and overrun as well if you stay there.
 
I said pull back.”

“Roger that,” Mullins responds and I see Charlie begin a fighting withdrawal in my direction.

“Red Team, on me.
 
Lynn, Drescoll, pull back on the left,” I say amidst an interior filled with growls, snarls, shouts, and subdued gunfire.

“Pulling back,” Lynn replies.

I step out from under the second floor ledge above.
 
The night runners have stopped coming over the balcony resulting in diminished fire from Bravo.
 
Flashes still rebound off the ceiling on the left from Black and Green Teams as they fight their way back.
 
An occasional volley of fire comes from Alpha as some night runners continue their attempt to make it down the escalator.
 
The escalator itself is piled to the hand rails with bodies.
 
Some of the night runners are only injured and move in the pile only to be stilled moments later by shots from Watkin’s group.
 
It’s the same with Horace’s Blue Team covering the near stairs; only an occasional flash of gunfire.