A New World: Sanctuary (39 page)

“We’re doing okay.
 
We could use some additional food though,” he answers.

“Okay, I think Red Team is slated for one of the supply teams.
 
Are we slated to go with Alpha or Bravo?”

“Alpha,” Lynn answers.

“We’ll make a supply run tomorrow if that’s what you had in mind,” I say.

“That sounds good.
 
We were also able to put an overhang on the roof,” Bannerman says.

“Good deal,” I reply.

“We managed to get about sixty feet of wall built today.
 
That will increase in the coming days as we had to get everything set up first and that took a while,” Bannerman says addressing the group.

“Awesome.
 
Where’d you get that pile driver by the way?
 
And great idea with the I-beams,” I say.

“We found it in a construction yard along with the cranes.
 
The beams were there as well and they got me thinking.
 
I thought we were going to have a tough time engineering a way to put the wall up in the first place and it would take some time to figure a way to make it sturdy, and here these were.
 
It was rather simple actually,” he says.

“Well, good job nonetheless,” I say in return.

I give a rundown of my day and there’s not really much to say after that.
 
I ask Frank if he would keep track of the buildings we’ve been in for supplies so we can be more effective with our gathering.
 
He said he’d mark them on the map.
 
I also think about demolishing the buildings after we’ve finished with them but save that discussion for another time.
 
We break and I head up to the roof with Robert and Bri; our now nightly ritual before dinner.
 
That may change with the coming nightly training sessions but I would like for this to remain.
 
We just may have to figure out a different time of the evening.

We talk for a while amongst ourselves; really mostly small talk with Robert focusing on the short helicopter flight back and how much he wants to learn to fly it.
 
I tell him it may be a while because I don’t even know how yet.
 
Bri says she’s interested in learning as well and I tell them they’re welcome to study with me after their training with Lynn.
 
I look to the edge of the roof and notice the thin steel plates that Bannerman had bolted into the concrete ledge lining the roof.
 
They look to extend about five or six feet out from the roof’s edge which should, and I say should here because you never know what the night buggers can accomplish, prevent anything from gaining access to the roof.
 
Looking past the overhang, the wall stands tall, although only a short section of it is actually upright.
 
It’s a silent reminder of the changed world in which we find ourselves.
 
It also stands in testimony to our endeavors and signals the start of a possible new beginning.
 
The sun droops behind the mountains bringing a refreshing coolness to the late evening.
 
A breeze picks up against our faces and it feels invigorating and energizing in a way.
 
The last of the sun hangs above the line of mountains as if trying to hang onto its dominance of the sky; trying not to lose its grip on the day before it is finally pulled down.
 
The sun setting is our clue that our time outside has come to an end.
 
The night doesn’t belong to us.
 
It’s time for the night runners to emerge; to prowl and hunt the streets.

We rise with a sigh and climb down into the heart of the building.
 
The entry doors have been secured and the aroma of warm food drifts throughout.
 
The murmuring that usually comes when a group of people are gathered rises and falls as conversations take place.
 
There’s movement as some move their stuff into one cubicle or another.
 
This is so much better than traipsing around the world in a 130.
 
As much as I’m not a fan of what happened to the world, I’m thankful we are here and safe for the moment.
 
There is an underlying tension of knowing that could change in an instant; if the night runners find a way around the doors for instance, but for this particular moment in time, it feels good.
 
Tomorrow is another day though and each day seems to bring a new challenge with it.

Lynn makes an announcement at dinner regarding the nightly training sessions.
 
We’ll gather an hour prior to sunset and begin class before dinner.
 
The classes will go anywhere from an hour to two depending on what is being taught.
 
The subjects will vary and each night will have a different trainer.
 
That may change depending on the depth of the training and there may be times when a single class might extend over several days.
 
She then gives a synopsis of the day and summarizes our progress.
 
She ends with the plans for tomorrow which are basically the same as today with the exception of the teams on supply duty and the one in reserve.

She finishes as the first of our nightly chorus section of poundings against our outside doors begins in earnest.
 
Bannerman whips out his ever-present notepad and jots down some notes.
 
The shrieks are muted by the distance and the doors but it is still very much noticed.
 
Nonetheless, we down our meals, one team finishing and taking over for one of the two on guard.

The next day rolls around the same as before, mostly with me not wanting to get up.
 
The morning PT and training, and yes, I do join in, is a nice way to break the day in.
 
We manage to get outside just after the breaking of dawn and exercise in the cool air of the morning.
 
We go through another rendition of training that Lynn has lined up for us, this one using one of the back rooms of the building for small room clearing techniques.
 
We practice until all teams move into the room like a fast moving fog; quietly and quickly but with force.

We shower, doing the best we can with the limited facilities, and put some food in us before the teams separate on their various missions.
 
Today, it’s Red and Alpha Teams to gather food supplies this morning.
 
Frank found us a Safeway just up the road that we might start with.
 
Walking outside with the teams, I notice a high cloud cover has come over us.
 
The sun shines opaquely through the milky white clouds.
 
The morning still has the feel of a warm day but there is a definite increase in the humidity.
 
The rain won’t be more than a day or two behind if the front continues to weaken the high pressure over us.

We pile into two Humvees and a transport truck after checking over our gear and equipment one more time.
 
The deep, throaty sound of the semi’s idling and warming up in the lot, light blue smoke rising from the chrome stacks just behind the cabs, echoes across the still morning.
 
The breeze that sprang up the night before is absent.
 
The sounds of vehicles starting add to the noisy activity beginning to take place.
 
A billow of dark smoke from the exhaust of a crane near the partially constructed wall indicates activity beginning on the wall as well.
 
This is the daytime; it is our time and we have to make the best use of it.

We pull out just ahead of the trucks and other vehicles on their way north to commence gathering pieces for our perimeter wall.
 
We add to the radio traffic letting Frank know we are on our way.
 
We’ll call at our destination which is only minutes away.
 
The others will take twenty or more minutes to reach the area they are heading to.
 
The convoy of vehicles parts at the Interstate as we continue ahead along a five lane thoroughfare.
 
The traffic lights hang dark above as we pass through several intersections and arrive at the Safeway.
 
The streets and parking lot are strewn with paper and other trash.
 
It looks like the night runners partied at night and left their leavings behind.

There are a few columns of lighter smoke in the area drifting lazily into the air.
 
Some of the fires from the day prior are still burning in places.
 
The smell of smoke almost overcomes the ripe odor of rot that has become predominant.
 
Hopefully we can stay ahead of the game there; taking care of the bodies before disease has a chance to become rampant.
 
As if in answer to my thoughts, several fire trucks pass by as we pull into the parking lot in front of the store.

Exiting with the sound of the trucks diminishing into the distance, I call Frank with our arrival and examine the store front.
 
I was hoping it would be a glass front store as a lot of these store types tend to be.
 
The glass front would allow a lot more light inside and would most likely be free of night runners or at least help keep them somewhat at bay.
 
No such luck here.
 
There are two entrance doors, one to the left of the store and one to the right with several panes of glass beside them, but the rest of the store is concrete block.
 
It will be very much like the BX back in the Azores with light extending a few feet inside by the doors but the rest of the interior an inky black.

We spray on the odor eliminator.
 
I cradle my M-4, and stroll to the door on the left.
 
I’m not sure which door will be closest to the canned food aisle and want to see which door to use by taking a look inside.
 
I feel my mind tighten down with our upcoming entry into a possible night runner domain.
 
Our past experiences with that haven’t been the most pleasant.
 
My thoughts turn toward tactics and run through several eventualities.
 
I contemplate our experience inside the BX.
 
I can’t think of a better plan than to establish a perimeter inside and have a couple of team members cart the goods out behind the perimeter.
 
The aisles will limit visibility and that will be dangerous.

I feel the tension building.
 
It’s similar to a high tension wire strumming in a strong breeze.
 
My senses are vibrating inside.
 
There is the unknown and the knowledge that this will be repeated again and again until we become more self-sufficient.
 
Approaching the doors on the left side, there is the unmistakable evidence of night runner activity.
 
Shards of glass litter the concrete sidewalk in front of the doors.
 
One of the side panes has been broken out.
 
The pieces of glass are dispersed so there isn’t the telltale sign of footprints written in blood.
 
Looking in the broken pane, shards are scattered across the white and black tiled linoleum floor.
 
There is a very faint outline of footprints but they appear old.

That aside, the signs are unmistakable.
 
This is like a neon sign saying night runners are here.
 
There’s a faint whirring at the door as the cooler air inside mixes with the warmer air outside.
 
It carries the combination of mustiness and a rotting smell on the very light breeze.
 
The radiant light streaming through the remaining glass doors and other pane cast a rectangular path of light about twenty feet inside.
 
A gloomy gray extends a shorter distance past before the interior is swallowed up in darkness like a vast black hole.

No sounds come from inside but I know that doesn’t mean anything.
 
I can barely see the end caps at the head of the aisles but not down the aisles themselves.
 
The others are gathered behind me as I look around the establishment.
 
The interior dictates a similar entry and formation as we had at the BX in the Azores but we’ll have to have a moving perimeter anchoring against the outside wall.
 
The store opens up some to the left and, unless we take the time to clear the entire side, and still not know if the night runners can come around from that side, that’s our best shot.
 
We’ll have to anchor around the door as well to preserve our path out of here in case something happens.

I pull away.
 
Dizziness takes hold and I feel a moment of disassociation.
 
Shaking my head to clear it, I turn to Watkins and the other team members.
 
The sight of them standing in the parking lot with the sun shining through the opaque clouds seems a touch surreal; as if they all seem a little brighter than they should.
 
The soldiers in their black fatigues, with their tactical combat vests secured to the outside; each either cradling his or her M-4 or grabbing it next to the lower receiver and holding it downward, their eyes all focused on me and the entrance waiting for instructions and the word to go, stands very sharp in my mind.
 
Next to me, Robert looks much in the same manner as the others; a little too bright.
 
It seems like a moment just prior to stepping through a time machine and into an unknown world.