by John O'Brien
“Yeah but there may not be enough to get back before dark,” I say. “Put some unscented candles in the bathroom so we’ll have light.”
“Why do we….” And that’s all as I hear the beep of a signal lost from my phone.
I look at the screen and see “searching for signal” dance across the screen. No bars show on the signal strength meter. I ask Bri to check her phone and it says the same thing. I guess the days of cell service have seen their last. I’m surprised it lasted this long. It’s just one more technology that has failed and certainly won’t be the last. I close the phone and look out at the passing fields. There are quite a few that have cows silently standing where they always have. A few have their heads down eating. I wonder if they have even noticed the change about them; the complete lack of automobiles passing by or the decrease of noise. I wonder if they notice that the ranchers are no longer coming out to check on them.
There are several bridges to cross on the way down and I am worried they may be obstructed. There’s no way to contact Kelly now if we find our route blocked. If even one of them is impassable, it could take hours to find a way around if at all. Although each one is crucial, the ones I am particularly concerned about are the ones spanning the wide Columbia River. Those are the ones mostly likely to be blocked as they are between two major cities. We won’t have much time to either find a way around or find a safe place to hole up in if we can’t get across.
We pass through one of the larger country towns and the Interstate becomes blocked by cars that were trying to get off one of the off-ramps. Robert slows and stops before driving across the grass meridian between the north and southbound lanes, pulling onto the northbound lanes to circumvent the block. The smell of decomposing bodies becomes strong as we pass; so strong my stomach turns and I almost gag.
“Oh my God that stinks,” Bri says with a disgusted tone.
“Hold your breath, hon. We’ll be by it in a bit,” I tell her in a whispery voice as I try to hold mine as well.
During the drive down, Lynn and I talk about some of the things we need to do when we get back and the organization needed to do them, with Robert and Bri participating in the conversations. The bridges so far don’t present any obstacles and we pull close to the I-5 Columbia River crossing with the sun just a few fingers above the horizon. The vehicles on the road have increased to a degree as we enter Vancouver but haven’t blocked the Interstate fully. Crows hop among several of the cars looking for morsels and I don’t even want to think about what they may be finding. I see the towers of the drawbridge rise above the buildings off to the side of the freeway and the congestion increases as we draw nearer.
Robert slows as we thread our way through the line of cars. A major Portland hospital exit lies down the road a ways and it may be that this jam is from people trying to get there. I just hope the bridge isn’t completely inundated with cars. We get to within a mile of the bridge when my fears materialize and the route becomes completely blocked. My anxiety increases thinking we are so close yet not able to complete the distance. At least not at this crossing.
“Let’s backtrack our route to the other freeway and try the bridge there,” I say to Robert.
“How do we get there?” He asks.
“Just back up until we can turn around and we’ll drive to the I-205 exit. That will take us to another bridge and if that one’s blocked, then I’m out of ideas,” I answer.
Robert backs up slowly, threading his way through the snarl until we reach a point where we can turn our beast around. We make our way to the convergence of the highways and turn off the exit. The roads are much clearer along this route and we find the bridge mostly unobstructed. We pass over the long, light gray, concrete bridge spanning the wide river. The sun reflects off its surface with a bright shimmer. Sailboats dot the marinas by the shore but none plow the waterway. The once busy river, with sail boats slowly meandering along with sails unfurled, skiers enjoying a day in the sun, and jet skis creating waves, is now as empty as the roads.
The sun is tipping to the horizon, beginning to fill the late afternoon/evening sky with oranges, as we pull into Kelly’s apartment complex. I have Robert pull into the main lot outside of her apartment and park with the Humvee pointed toward the entrance just in case we need to get away quickly. Of course, if it came to that, we would most likely have a lot of trouble getting to the vehicle, but one can never be too careful.
I step out of the vehicle, my butt sore from once again sitting for multiple hours, and look around at the complex. Three-story apartments encircle the lot we are in, silent yet giving the impression that they are holding a secret. The silence gives off a feeling of peace and serenity but the dark windows staring out present an underlying, menacing feel. The sound of the Humvee doors closing reverberates off the white, wooden walls. The shadow of the building next to us stretches across the lot as the day begins to close.
“Let’s grab our gear and head in,” I say eyeing the deepening blue sky.
Toting our weapons, ammo, goggles, and water, we walk up to Kelly’s apartment door. The apartments are built on a hill so her second floor apartment door is actually level with the parking lot. It’s on the other side, toward the back, that the second floor nature of it is revealed. I knock on the door and hear the deadbolt slide. The door opens and Kelly stands framed by the door looking disheveled. Her normally kempt black hair hangs limply with strands sticking out in places. Dark circles surround her almost black eyes and show clearly on her lightly tanned skin.
“Thank goodness you’re here. I was so scared,” Kelly says opening the door wider. I hear Lynn’s heavy sigh behind me.
“We’re here. Did you put the candles in the bathroom?” I ask walking inside with Robert, Bri, and Lynn following.
“Yeah but I don’t get why there,” she answers.
“Because that’s where we’re going to hole up in. It doesn’t have direct access to the outside and therefore our light and noise will be diminished. They are scentless right?” I ask.
“Most of them,” she replies.
“Well, let’s take the scented ones out,” I say walking from the small entry foyer and into the where the kitchen is separated from the living room.
“Robert, make sure the windows and doors are closed and locked,” I tell him over my shoulder.
“They’re already locked,” I hear from the kitchen.
I turn to see Brian standing in the kitchen. He looks as disheveled as Kelly with his short, brown hair sticking up in places. His paler skin looks akin to a night runner but more on the pink side rather than gray and without the translucent nature. His tan, Docker-style slacks and long-sleeved, button up blue shirt is wrinkled and with vestiges of dirt in places.
“You can never be too careful and the more eyes on something, the better,” I say and nod at Robert to continue.
“Whatever. Do what you want but I’m telling you everything is locked,” Brian says.
I shake my head and turn to Lynn. “Let’s check the bathroom out. Bri, go with Robert,” I say.
“Okay, Dad,” Bri replies.
I watch her walk toward Robert, who is checking the living room windows overlooking the back side of the apartments, and have a very strange feeling settle inside. I am watching her nonchalantly walk across the room in her loose, black tactical uniform, with her long, blond hair flowing down the back, and casually carrying an M-4 by her side. I tell you, it’s such a strange sight to see in your fifteen-year old daughter.
The apartment itself is set up like most any other apartment. The front door opens into a small foyer which makes a ninety degree angle, opening up with to a small kitchen on the left and a living room stretching ahead to a set of oriel windows looking out to the setting sun. A hallway extends to the immediate right of the kitchen, terminating at the master bedroom with a bedroom off to the kitchen side of the hallway. An interior bathroom opens to the left about halfway down the hall. To the far right of the living room, another bedroom opens. Lyn
n and I walk into the central bathroom with Kelly following behind. It’s a very small bathroom with a single sink, shower, and toilet.
“It’s going to be a little cozy in here tonight,” I say removing the top of the toilet and disconnecting the flush lever.
“Yeah, you’re not kidding,” Lynn replies.
“Why are you doing that?” Kelly asks referring to my disconnecting the toilet.
“We need to keep absolutely quiet tonight so no flushing. This is to make sure someone doesn’t forget,” I answer.
“Oh,” Kelly says.
Candles of various sizes sit on the counter. I make sure that only unscented ones remain and hand any scented ones to Kelly to put back wherever she keeps them. There should be enough left to keep us lit for the night. Kelly looks quizzically at the ones I handed to her.
“The night runners, the creatures, have a terrific sense of smell and may well be able to pick out the smell of scented candles burning. We can’t afford to take the chance that they can,” I answer her look.
Robert and Bri walk by down the hallway. We follow them out and meet in the living room.
“All closed and locked,” Robert says.
I hear the front door open and in walks a tall, lithe brunette carrying several bottles of water. She stops in her tracks shocked by the presentation of several armed people standing in her living room. Jessica, Kelly’s daughter and my once step-daughter, stares at Robert and Bri standing in their dark fatigues and sporting M-4’s as if the picture doesn’t match. She hasn’t seen them in a while and I’m certain never expected them to appear before her fully armed and with looks of determination.
The experiences we’ve had over the past week or so have changed them. They are confident and fully aware of the situation we find ourselves in. A little over a week ago, they were attending school and now have flown half way across the world, meeting with countless night runners. In that time, Robert has learned to fly a 130, has done so with a high degree of skill, and has been involved in several skirmishes and intense firefights. Bri has been an integral part of flying the 130, learning the systems and able to do the flight engineer job in her sleep. She has also seen several encounters. Those experiences have put an added confidence and wisdom in their eyes.
“Hi, Jack,” Jessica says turning her dark brown eyes towards me with a little uncertainty in her voice. It’s been a while since we have seen each other. We were once close but time and the separation saw a change to that. She must be about twenty now, I think seeing her stand by the kitchen entry.
“Hi, Jessica. Nice to see you again,” I say with a touch of self-consciousness as well.
“I only found a few bottles of water left at the gas station,” Jessica says turning to Kelly and Brian, depositing the bottles on the kitchen counter.
“Wait, what!?” Lynn exclaims. “Are you telling me you let her go out and into a building by herself?”
“We’ve been in there before so it’s okay,” Brian responds.
“You do understand what’s going on and what we’re dealing with right!?” Lynn counters.
“Yes,” Brian answers.
Lynn hangs her head and shakes it from side to side before looking up at me. “Tell me why we came down here again?” She asks. That’s my Lynn, blunt and to the point.
“Let’s just focus and get ready for tonight, although that wasn’t the greatest of ideas,” I add looking at Kelly. “We need to talk about tonight’s plan.”
“What do we need to do?” Kelly asks.
“First of all, we need to barricade the front door and put something up to block the kitchen window,” I say thinking that those are the two most prevalent entrances at ground level. I’m not too keen on blocking our only routes out but I don’t really see much of an alternative.
“What about using the couch for the door?” Bri asks.
I look over at the larger of the two couches in the living room thinking it may indeed fit in the entrance foyer against the door and opposing wall. “Good idea, Bri. Why don’t you, Robert, and Brian see if you can wedge it in place?”
As they begin moving the couch, I look around the rest of the place for something to block the kitchen window that overlooks the entrance to the front door. It’s not the easiest solution finding something to put over the sink that will hold but I eventually settle on a small bookcase in one of the bedrooms. Pulling the books and knickknacks off the shelves, Lynn and I lift the bookcase up against the window with the back to the outside. We also grab the smaller couch and wedge it between the shelves and the kitchen counter, pulling and pushing to make sure it is pressed firmly against the shelves, wedging it firmly in place. Robert, Bri, and Brian manage to fit the couch against the front door.
We all gather in the now couch-less living room. An orange glow peeks around the closed blinds announcing that the day is rapidly drawing to a close. I notice a not-so-faint aroma rising from my clothes. Yeah, the confined space we’ll be in tonight should be interesting in that regard and I wish I had brought a change.
“You know that bathroom isn’t very defensible,” Lynn says.
“I know. What do you think about using the back bedroom if something goes down tonight? ” I ask.
“I think that’s probably our best bet,” she answers.
“Let’s go take a look then.”
As a group, we move to the back bedroom down a narrow hallway filled with framed family pictures on the walls. The bedroom is mostly filled with a bed and dresser. To the left and backside of the apartment, long, white, slat-like blinds hang vertically over a sliding glass door leading to a small patio. The patio itself stands a good ten feet off another paved driveway and parking places. To the right, a good-sized walk-in closet opens off the room with a larger bathroom just past it. The frosted window in the bathroom leading outside is too small for anyone or anything to gain entrance.
The walk-in closet is filled with clothing in every available space with shoe boxes and shoes lining the floor underneath. “Kelly, can you clean off the closet floor?” I ask.
Kelly and Jessica remove the shoes and boxes, stuffing them under the bed and on the floor by the dresser. While they are doing that, Robert, Lynn, Bri, and I don our NVG’s and test our radios, making sure they are off to conserve the batteries. The nice thing about these units is the battery packs are rechargeable, however, there isn’t any electrical power here and I didn’t bring the chargers with us. Our actions throughout the day have drained them to an extent. The orange glow that was peeking around the living room blinds now changes to a deepening blue-gray around the bedroom blinds.
“What now?” Robert asks as we pile into the interior bathroom.
“Now we wait the night out,” I answer. “If something happens, we’ll move quickly into the bedroom with everyone in the closet. I’ll cover the hallway.”
“I’ll be with you,” Lynn says.
“I’d rather you be with everyone else and cover my back watching over the back patio door. It’s an enclosed space and I don’t want to have to second-guess what I’m shooting at.” I wish we had the IFF tabs we could attach to our uniforms. A thought for later.
“Okay, Jack,” she replies.
“What about me?” Robert asks.
“The same. Keep my backside clear and protect the others,” I answer.
The bathroom is indeed crowded with the seven of us in there. I take a seat on the counter by the sink with Robert next to me. Lynn squats by the hallway door and Bri sits herself on the bathtub rim. Brian sits on the floor under the towel rack with Kelly by the other door leading to the far bedroom and Jessica sitting on the toilet seat. We light the candles and place towels under the door.
“What’s with the towels?” Kelly asks.
“So the light doesn’t leak out,” I answer.
“Well, I for one don’t want to wait the night out in here,” Brian says.
“We don’t have much choice,” I respond.
“We’ve stayed out
in the living room and bedrooms every night and have been just fine,” he retorts.
“Look, Brian, we have to become a deep, dark hole in the fabric of space and time. You have no idea what these night runners are capable of,” I state in a whisper. “And keep your voice down.”
“What!? Just because you come in wearing SWAT gear and trying to look badass doesn’t mean that you know everything and have all of the answers,” he says still keeping his normal tone. “Weren’t you just a pilot anyway?”
“There are very few people in this room who know exactly what I did and that’s irrelevant anyway. All of us here have had a bit of experience with the night runners so we do know a bit. I don’t think you fully grasp what we are dealing with,” I whisper. “There are what, like over 2 million people in the Portland area? Or were?”
“Something like that I’d guess,” he says keeping his voice at normal volumes.
“Shhhh. Keep your voice down dammit,” I whisper sharply. “Just so you understand, there is something like thirty percent of the population that turned into night runners. That means there are about seven hundred thousand of them around this area. Seven hundred thousand, Brian! That’s a fuck of a lot!”
As if to emphasize my point, a very faint, distant, yet distinct shriek of a night runner, or perhaps a few of them, penetrate the inner walls and reach our ears.
“I’ll be fucked if I’m going to be told what to do in my own place and will talk as loud as I want,” he says with his voice rising.
That’s a surprise to me as I didn’t know Kelly and him were living together but then again, there has been no contact with Kelly since we split up many years ago. There is an obvious Alpha male thing going on. I am getting that Brian is feeling a little insecure which could stem from a number of reasons. He may be jealous and feel the need to assert himself as Kelly and I were together at one point, or it may be from the fact that we were asked to help and he is therefore feeling he is inadequate; that his manhood is in question. I just don’t have the time or patience for his insecurities. Especially if they are endangering the rest of us. I can also tell, by the tightness of her lips and the narrowing of her eyes, that Lynn is getting fairly perturbed.
