A New World: Sanctuary (7 page)

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Authors: John O'Brien

BOOK: A New World: Sanctuary
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We head across the ramp in a convoy with Lynn’s Humvee in the lead.
 
We have the radios set on an agreed frequency but keep the airwaves silent.
 
Lynn will be making radio calls over the various frequencies as we proceed through McChord and onto Fort Lewis to raid the armories.
 
We wind our way through the silent streets.
 
At least with the other vehicles on the road with us, there isn’t that lonely feeling of passing through a desolate place and gives a certain sense of normalcy.
 
Well, riding through a base in a convoy is not really normal for me.
 
It is just nice to see others around even if they aren’t the crowds that used to inhabit these streets.

Brake lights shine ahead and the convoy of vehicles comes to a stop.
 
In a brown grassy field to my left, a hillock sits surrounded by a chain link fence topped with razor wire.
 
Behind the fence and nestled at the base of the mound, a heavy set of double-steel doors sit embedded slightly into the hill.
 
I park the Jeep behind the transport vehicle in front and jump out.
 
Red and Alpha Teams exit their vehicles further up and Lynn walks back down the column in my direction.

“This is the main armory for the special forces battalion.
 
We’ll make sure you get in before proceeding to the divisional armories,” she says standing in the shade of the transport.

“Okay and we’ll keep in contact with the personal radios.
 
Give me a radio check once you get there.
 
I’ll have someone standing by the vehicle radios just in case.
 
Good luck and I love you,” I say feeling the heat of the truck exhaust against my pant legs.

“I love you too.
 
See you shortly,” she replies and begins her stroll back up to the lead Humvee.
 
I see her at one of the other vehicles momentarily to talk about one thing or another.

I walk to the double-wide gate in the chain link fence gathering Red and Alpha Teams along the way.
 
The fence has a tempered padlock holding the two gates closed.
 
Watkins brings the heavy duty bolt cutters and, with Calloway, attempts to cut the post on the lock.
 
The two of them grunt and strain on the cutters and the lock eventually gives way with a resounding snap.
 
The bolt cutters and the strength of the two men have won that battle.
 
Watkins removes the lock and swings the gates open.
 
The other members of the teams keep a lookout for anything in the surrounding area.

I’m not too concerned with night runners inside the armory as the gate was locked and, from my vantage point, the razor wire at the top is untouched.
 
Remembering Lynn’s story of the night runners gaining entrance to the tower in Kuwait, there would be ample evidence that they had been this way.
 
The razor wire would have been strewn with body parts lying on the ground.
 
There is also the fact that there is an identical lock securing the armory doors.
 
From experience, and I can’t assume this to be the case in every instance, the night runners leave clues that they have gained entrance to a building.
 
I worry about their presence, especially seeing we haven’t secured a more permanent safe place yet, but will be doubly worried if they gain the ability to enter into locked places.

A paved drive leads from the gate to the armory doors.
 
The sun is peeking above the tops of the nearby evergreens casting ribbons of light across our path.
 
The idling of the vehicle engines behind interrupts the serenity that might otherwise be found on this calm summer morning.
 
I find it a little odd that I am becoming used to that silence.
 
The eeriness of the events is fading into the recesses of my mind.
 
It still feels dream-like but not as much as it once did.
 
Maybe because I am worrying so much about everything that my consciousness is not recognizing it to the extent it did.
 
Not that I didn’t worry or wasn’t fearful before, it’s just that now I am really feeling the time crunch.

The scene at the gate repeats itself as the lock snaps under the effort of Watkins and Calloway.
 
Alpha Team keeps their weapons trained on the heavy steel doors for precautionary means as Watkins swings one of them open.
 
The squeal of the hinges rises above the idling engines as the door pivots fully open.
 
A cool breeze rushes out from the dark interior, cooling us as it passes by.
 
Seeing the dark interior, I expect to hear the shriek of a night runner even though the doors were tightly locked.
 
Nothing.
 
Calloway reaches in and swings the second door open to the sound of the metal hinges rubbing together.

“Mount up!”
 
I hear Lynn yell by the vehicles.

The sound of doors slamming precedes the noise of engines revving up.
 
A few gears grind as the convoy begins moving out.
 
I turn and watch the precession move off.
 
The convoy quickly disappears from view and the sound diminishes into the distance, until we are once again left with the silence I have come to expect.
 
The only vehicles left are the Jeep, two Humvees and a large transport truck sitting in the road by the open gate.

 

*
  
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She scrambles in the broken window, like she has done every night, before the bright light that brings the burning pain rises into the pre-dawn sky.
 
Her hunt was successful and she will sleep without being hungry today.
 
The four-legged one she chased down and cornered fed her for another night and she is satisfied.
 
Food is becoming harder to locate each night and she finds herself having to wander farther afield to obtain it.
 
Small packs roam the night and she has not joined any of them for the moment.
 
She feels like she can fend for herself better although the picture messages sent from the others are becoming more insistent.
 
She knows she will not be able to avoid joining one for much longer and it might be against her will.
 
So far, her lair has not been found by the wandering male packs and she has been left to herself.

She empties her bladder and makes her way up to the darkened room where she sleeps.
 
Her shoulder still hurts where she had to fight the four-legged one but her agility and strength won out in the end.
 
Curling up on the floor, she falls asleep and shuts her mind off from the other packs that are finding their way to their own lairs.

She wakes suddenly in the midst of a picture-filled sleep, confused for a moment as to how or why she is lying on the floor.
 
She sits up quickly, the thoughts and memories of the previous evening gone; unable to recall the last few days at all other than to know that there had been a last few days.
 
Oh My God!
 
Where are my kids?
 
She thinks scrambling out of the ink black room, knocking her shoulder against the wall and wondering where and how she hurt it.
 
Checking the upstairs bedroom and finding their beds empty, she flies down the stairs in a panic calling out their names, her voice echoing throughout the house.

Barely noticing the carpet beneath her bare feet, she runs down the central hallway continuing to call out their names, hoping for an answering shout.
 
The house remains silent except for her calls reverberating off of the pale, yellow walls and the soft pad of her feet on the floor, filling the space between shouts.
 
She runs to the basement and, throwing open the door, she shouts into the dark area beneath the house; the light from outside sending a single streamer of light across the room and onto the concrete floor.
 
No answer returns.

Closing the basement door, she turns toward the front door and notices the broken front window.
 
What happened there?
 
She thinks with an increased panic feeling.
 
Did someone break in and take her kids?
 
She reaches out for the front door handle, feeling hesitant about opening it and confused as to why.
 
The feeling of panic overrides the why and her fingers close around the knob.

A veil closes over her mind like a mist seeping inland from the sea.
 
The panic feeling is instantly erased and the picture images return.
 
Those images convey confusion as to why she is away from her sleeping place.
 
Her skin begins to tingle from the radiated light leaking in from the window.
 
The panic feeling from before, although forgotten, is replaced by another seeing the light and feeling her skin itch and prickle.
 
She has the feeling she was about to go outside into the pain of the daylight and cannot figure out why.
 
She dashes across the partially lit room and up the stairs.
 
Finding her dark room once again, she curls up on the floor and falls asleep.

 

*
  
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I turn back to the open doors of the armory with the silence settling around us.
 
The doors open into a black hole.
 
The light from outside spills a few yards inside but illuminates only a concrete floor leading into the interior of the mounded-over armory.
 
I must admit there is a hunger of sorts inside me thinking about all of the neat toys that lie within; items that will hopefully give us an edge over the physical advantages the night runners possess.
 
There is no question that we will have to penetrate the domain of the night runners for our short-term supplies so we will have to go in with anything and everything that will give us the best chance at surviving any and all encounters.

“Well, we can do this with goggles or flashlights.
 
What do you think?”
 
I ask Watkins.

“Really, I don’t think it makes a difference here but think maybe we should sweep the place with the goggles first just to be sure,” he answers.

“I agree,” I say.
 
“We only have six plus the helmets.
 
I’ll go in with Red Team.
 
Have Alpha ready with flashlights by the door but keep an eye on the surrounding area.
 
If it’s all clear, we’ll go in together with the flashlights and see what we have here.
 
Have one member back at the truck on the radio.”

“Grab your helmet.
 
You’re going in with us,” I tell Robert.

I will use one of the goggles as I can’t fit the ear piece from the radios inside it and I want to be able to communicate just in case.
 
I’ll have Robert right by my side so I’ll be able to yell at him if I need to.
 
The sound of his boots hitting the paved lane interrupts the silence as he runs back to the Jeep to gather his helmet.
 
Returning, he joins the rest of teams gathered.

“The interior appears to be long and narrow judging from the shape of the hill.
 
Robert and I will be in the front and middle as much as space allows.
 
Henderson and Denton, you cover the right flank, Gonzalez and McCafferty, you have the left.
 
Flankers keep ten feet behind so we all have clear lines of fire in any direction.
 
Keep a watch to the rear so we don’t get blindsided if anything is in here.
 
Watkins, keep your lights on the ground just behind us to help keep an eye on our six.
 
Questions?”
 
I say donning the goggles.

Everyone shakes their head answering.
 
“Okay, let’s lock and load.”

I am eager now that we are at this point.
 
That is coupled with an anxious feeling about entering into any dark place.
 
The experience of past entries doesn’t exactly leave me with warm and fuzzy feelings.
 
Reaching just inside the armory doors to the right, I flick a bank of switches to the upward position.
 
No corresponding lights flicker on with my action.
 
Well, it was worth a try
, I think stepping onto the concrete floor of the armory with Robert by my side, his helmet on and goggles up.
 
I settle my goggles into place as I approach the light/dark demarcation line, the light fading quickly from light to gray to a smoky black.
 
The building gives off an oily, metallic smell that only a room full of metal parts has.
 
The room comes alive as my goggles click into place.
 
The once invisible parts of the room shine forth in a green glow.
 
I look over to Robert and see he has lowered his NVG’s as well.

Racks of weapons line the walls to the left stretching back into the room.
 
To the right, cases are stacked on shelving units with crates lining parts of the wall.
 
In the center of the armory, empty tables stand with small basins set within each - obviously cleaning stations.
 
My vision doesn’t stretch to include the entire length of the room but I don’t immediately see anywhere something could be hiding in wait.
 
I motion Henderson and Denton around to the right side of the tables and start down the center adjacent the tables in the middle.
 
Gonzalez and McCafferty take up station to my left and behind.

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