by John O'Brien
“All of this indicates that something was or is inside and I’m guessing there are night runners in there. We can’t afford to ever think otherwise. The last thing I want us to do is saunter in like we’re on a beer run only to run into a hornets nest without at least being prepared for it. There’s nothing worse than expecting beer and being stung instead.”
I call Corporal Horace over and bring her up to speed on our findings. “I want you to post two outside here to cover the parking lot. When we go in, position the other four inside the door. When we get into a position to cover the store, I want you to then begin hauling goods out. Stack them outside the door without blocking it and stay in twos,” I say.
“Yes, sir,” she responds.
“I’ll tell you when to start gathering things. And have someone go into the crew vans and gather all of the flashlights. There’s also a roll of duct tape in front.” I noticed the flashlights mounted on the wall of the crew bus. These were for use by crews or other personnel if needed. The duct tape was a nice surprise.
“Will do, sir,” Horace says detailing two of her team to pick up the items.
Looking inside, the sunlight extends about twenty feet into the building before fading into darkness. I continue to squat there listening intently for anything inside or out of the ordinary. Complete silence. I continue to have the sense that the silence and darkness is holding back and biding its time; waiting. It has the feel that something is lurking inside. It’s a feeling I have had on many other occasions and one that I have come to trust. It has never led me astray and has saved me and my team several times. It is the feeling of something watching.
One of the things I learned from the field is that eye contact or the focus of watching something keys in a response and a feeling. We all put forth energy and that energy we put forth is felt by others. The more intense the focus and concentration, the more it is felt. It’s the feeling we have when we feel something is watching. So, we never looked directly at targets when observing them but just off to the side. We definitely avoided looking into their eyes for the reason that this would trigger an even more intense feeling of being watched. Early on, I found that looking at targets caused them to turn and look directly at you as if they knew exactly where that energy was coming from. I can’t pinpoint any certain direction now but it is emanating from the darkness inside.
“Red Team, we’re heading inside. Don’t go any further than where the light fades into shadow and we’ll analyze it more from there,” I say as the flashlights arrive and are passed out. I can’t see very far inside but we should be able to make out more once we are in. The flashlights will definitely help. I can tell that the interior stretches both ahead and to the right as the entrance doors are on the left hand side of the building. Using the tape, we secure the flashlights to the front rails.
“Henderson, Denton, cover the right. Gonzalez and McCafferty, directly ahead. Rogers and Bartel, you’ll cover the right forward flank. I’ll be with Robert just behind,” I instruct the team.
“Hooah, sir,” they respond quietly.
“Lights on. Lock and load ladies and gents. The curtain is rising and the show is about to begin,” I say to the sound of selector switches being flicked from safe to burst.
“Go,” I whisper.
Henderson, followed quickly by Denton, slips in the door and moves quickly the right, both of them panning their lights around the interior. Gonzalez and McCafferty enter on their heels followed by Rogers and Bartel. They all come to stop kneeling right at the light/dark demarcation line shining their lights into the interior. Robert and I follow in with our guns up and ready to throw down a curtain of steel. The hush of the dark greets us. The only sound is the faint shuffling of boots and knees on the ground as everyone shifts positions. As everyone settles into their station, the silence is such that we can hear each other breathing.
The lights reveal a layout similar to any warehouse style store; a large open area similar in size to a medium Wal-Mart or Fred Meyer. The food is fortunately situated on our side of the store with the merchandise on the other side. Our lights can’t penetrate the full length of the interior so half of the store remains shrouded in darkness. I would call out to see if anyone is there but I do not want to overtly alert any night runners. I am sure they must sleep during the day, if they sleep at all, and I definitely do not want to disturb their slumber. Besides, any person staying here would already have found the others or would be outside during the day. Our lights in the store will alert anyone we were there. Unfortunately, that also means night runners. I find myself really wishing we all had night vision goggles. Radios for everyone, with throat mics, wouldn’t hurt either.
The aisles line up from front to back so our lights don’t really give us a clear view of everything. The lights from Henderson and Denton flash over a large aisle in the front of the store and the bank of cashier stands. The ones from Gonzalez and McCafferty show the first aisle clear but only penetrate a little way down the next aisle. The aisles seem to continue to the other end without a break which makes it easier for us and the goods on the shelves appear relatively undisturbed and fairly well stocked. Some items have definitely been taken but from the look of things, it was probably by the remainder of the personnel stationed here to sustain themselves. The strong odor of decaying food I remember from previous stores is absent. Most likely because the generators worked until this morning keeping the food items fresh. There is a hint of mustiness in the air that triggers unpleasant memories. The spots of light from our flashlights constantly move about the area around checking for movement. I wave Horace and the other three inside. Our hemisphere of sunlight becomes very crowded.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Teams of two will cover the end of each aisle and we’ll move forward one by one until we reach the aisle with the water. At that point, Horace, you four will proceed to the aisle and start carting the water out. Silence is key. If we aren’t disturbed by then, we’ll go after other non-perishables. It’s essential that the cover teams stay abreast. Maintain your situational awareness so we don’t have friendly fire in case things turn ugly. A round is no longer friendly once it leaves the barrel,” I say in a whisper only loud enough for all to hear.
“Gonzalez, McCafferty, you have the far end of the aisle. Henderson and Denton, the near end. Robert and I will cover the rear and the flank for Gonzalez and McCafferty. Rogers and Bartel, do the same for Henderson and Denton on this end,” I continue.
I would normally place myself in front but I find myself making slightly different decisions as Robert is with me. Having him with me is more than dipping a toe in the water but it isn’t quite jumping in yet.
“Folks, there are night runners in here. Let’s do our best not to disturb them and let them get their beauty rest.”
“How do you know they’re in here, sir?” Denton asks.
“Smell that faint musty odor?” I ask in return.
“Yes, sir,” he responds.
“Remind you of anything?”
“A little like a locker room,” Denton says.
“Exactly. That is the smell of unwashed bodies and sweaty clothes. They’re in here so everyone keep on their toes. Gonzalez, McCafferty, move out,” I say quietly.
The two rise and begin moving down the closest aisle. Their lights pan out ahead and around as they step into the darkness. Henderson and Denton move behind them and take position at the near end focusing to our right. As Gonzalez and McCafferty reach a point half way down the aisle, I reach out and grab Robert’s shoulder.
“Okay, stay close by me and do what I tell you. Understand?”
“Yeah, Dad,” he answers.
We step across the linoleum floor and the darkness surrounds us. It feels like a cloak suddenly drapes around us. The farther in we get, the more the cloak envelops, a weight pressing in. The only vision we have are the lights from Gonzalez and McCafferty ahead and where ours shine. There is a feeling in the air. That calm, quiet feeling with an u
nderlying tension that says something is about to happen. I am very acquainted with that tension and adrenaline and know this feeling well. It’s like a coiled spring just before it releases. I have the feeling our presence is known. I glance back at Robert about to send him back to the door but something inside makes me hesitates.
“What?” He asks.
“Uh, nothing,” I respond.
Gonzalez and McCafferty reach the end of the aisle and focus their lights down the far end to our right. Robert and I continue quietly up behind them. I tap Gonzalez on the shoulder and she moves up to the next aisle with McCafferty. Looking back towards the entrance, I see the lights from Henderson and Denton disappear as they move forward as well. I have a good team here, I think watching Rogers and Bartel take their place.
The combined lights on our end reveal a cooler section against the wall to our immediate left and what seems to be a small deli counter just past that. The lane in front of us is broken only by the aisles branching off to our right and what appears to be a hallway or entrance to our left just past the deli counter ahead. I move up with Robert behind and shoulder tap Gonzalez again. They move up another aisle. This process repeated as I check down each aisle until we are four aisles down. At that point my light reveals beverages located on the shelves. The pickings are slim on these shelves as there had been down some of the other aisles.
“Horace, this is Jack, how do you copy?” I ask quietly on the radio.
“Loud and clear, sir,” she responds.
“The water is in the fourth aisle. Start gathering quietly.”
“Yes, sir.”
I see other lights pan about the store as Blue Team begins heading our direction. I focus back towards the far side of the store hoping nothing is back there or at least does not get stirred up. I think about the sheer number of times we are going to have to do this in order to get supplies before we are able to be self-sufficient. We are going to have to plant crops, hunt, fish, develop adequate water supplies and such, but until then, non-perishables and bottled water are our friend. Of course we’ll have natural water and it should be easy to find back home in the Northwest but we’ll have to be careful of anything close to cities. Maybe we can cut holes in the roofs and install skylights, I think pondering an easier way to do this. My mind goes through various scenarios including just blowing the roofs off. I immediately eliminate that one as we may need access into the store again and the simple fact that the roof caving in will destroy the very thing we want to get. The skylights or a portable generator with lights seem the best options in my mind right now.
Lights illuminates us as Blue Team turns down our aisle. The thoughts in my head vanish as if the lights banished them. Horace and her group begin removing the cases and gallon jugs of water from the shelves. From the looks of things and the scarcity of them, it should only take them about two trips. It should be enough to keep us for a few days. As they start back up the aisle for their second trip, the startling sound of something metallic hitting the ground sounds out from the inky dark in the back in the store. It sounds like a pan hitting the floor and skittering across it. The sudden noise causes an adrenaline release. With the adrenaline hitting, the pounding of my heart feels like a bass drum being hit.
Lights converge in the direction of the sound and all movement stops as our alertness meter climbs to the top. The shelves block most of our vision toward the back. More sounds of items falling from shelves echoes throughout. It is hard to tell in here if it is getting closer but the noise is becoming constant. Gonzalez edges to the far right of the lane with McCafferty on the left. All of our weapons are pointed down the open lane. Gonzalez looks back at me over her shoulder asking for direction.
“Keep alert and focused. We’re the rear guard. We’re going to cover and pull back once Blue is clear. As you know, they come suddenly,” I whisper to her turning to Horace and her crew.
“Horace, get out of here. We’re covering. Tell Henderson to remain in place until we get to the entrance. Go,” I say down the aisle where they have become as still as statues. Alert, tense, and focused toward the continued noise of items falling.
The sound is coming rapidly closer. Amongst the clatter, I make out the faint slap of feet on the floor, although muted in some way. Our lights are focused in the middle of the store where the majority of the noise is rapidly drawing near, but without picking up a sight of anything. Horace and her team begin withdrawing backward down the aisle toward the entrance, still facing in the direction of whatever is coming toward them. I can tell that they aren’t going to make it to the end of the aisle before whatever is making the sound is upon them. I see by their faces that they know it too.
I stand to get a better angle over the shelves. My light immediately catches sight of a night runner leaping across the top of the shelves; the gray-skinned creature gathers itself before leaping to the next shelf, with other night runners adjacent to it and more following. I immediately open fire on the closest one. The solid thuds of high speed steel impacting flesh and bone are subdued beneath the echoing crack of the rounds being fired. I catch the one in mid-leap across the chest causing it to somersault in mid-air, crashing heavily into the shelf in front of it from its forward momentum. Strobes flash behind me as Robert opens up on others. I flinch as his barrel fires close to my ears causing them to ring loudly.
“They’re on the shelves!” I yell out.
The night runners are converging on Horace’s group in the aisle who are quickly making their way to the entrance end but the night runners are going to be on them before they make it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement down the lane towards the back of the store coming into the cones of light from Gonzalez and McCafferty. More emerge from the hallway entrance on the left side, crossing the lane and light quickly before heading down the aisle across. More shots ring out as both women engage an increasing number of emerging night runners. Temporal distortion sets in.
Gonzalez and McCafferty kneel on the floor on opposite sides of the lane. Night runners fall as they run into the light painted towards them but more replace those fallen. Rounds strike some of those coming out of the hallway entrance and they pitch forward headlong, disappearing down the aisle behind the shelves. Some fall there with only their feet extending into the lane. I notice some continue to move slowly, crawling down the aisle, signifying they are only injured. The sound of gunfire is continuous as we fight back the sudden rush of the horde. Robert and I are concentrating on the ones leaping across the shelves, Gonzalez and McCafferty focus on the ones on the ground.
Steel fills the air as we attempt to hold them back. Gray bodies seem a solid mass as our light picks them up. Blood sprays from many and they fall or are driven backwards but they are quickly over-trodden by many more behind them. As we reload, magazines clatter across the linoleum where once only shopping carts rolled. The rapid and constant sound of spent cartridge rounds clink as the floor quickly fills with brass. Strobes fill the air, momentarily outshining the light from our flashlights. My hearing is now completely gone on the left side but I don’t notice the ringing. Adrenaline and focus have taken over.
The night runners quickly close the gap on Horace’s team and on us because of their numbers and how close they were to us when they started. Blue Team is running with their rifles pointed left, unable to see anything over the shelf beside them. Anxious and knowing they are about to be beset upon yet unable to do anything about it. I know that feeling. It is a feeling that makes you sick at heart; a very desperate, lonely and out of control feeling. The first night runner leaps on the shelf next to them and slams into the trailing member.
With the strong smell of gunpowder hanging in the air, I see a night runner leap from the shelf and hit a Blue Team member from behind, both of them falling to the ground. He lets out a surprised shout as he falls face forward with the night runner on his back. The light from his flashlight spins as his rifle hits the ground with a clatter, coming to rest ahead of him against the
shelf. My light illuminates the night runner’s back as it bends forward and its hands flail wildly as it begins clawing at the fallen soldier. I would take the shot but I don’t want to risk hitting the team member, and other members of Corporal Horace’s team are in my line of fire should a bullet go all of the way through. The Blue member screams again as fingernails and teeth begin to find their mark. He twists and turns in an attempt to throw the night runner off his back but the creature is too well situated for him to gain any leverage.
“Cover me and keep them off my back!” I yell over my shoulder to Robert and take off down the aisle without waiting for a response.
My ear is ringing so bad that I don’t think I would hear one even if it is given. Continued flashes from Robert’s M-16, and seeing night runners vanish from on top of the shelves as his rounds find their mark, tells me he either heard or is just continuing on with what he was doing before. Either way, my back is clear for the moment. My vision is blocked by a shelf as I enter the aisle bringing my visual perspective down substantially.
I tear off down the aisle feeling helpless by my being unable to shoot the night runner off our member who is down and hearing his continued screams. Just as I arrive behind the night runner, the remaining upright soldiers from Horace’s group round the corner of the aisle, apparently not realizing that one of them is down. The night runner raises its head just as I arrive in an apparent attempt to find another place to bite. I bring the butt of my M-4 against the base of its skull, hitting it with a resounding crack and sending it sprawling forward. Reversing my carbine, I fire a short burst into it before it has a chance to hit the floor. Blood sprays from between its shoulder blades, neck and the back of its head in rapid succession as my rounds find their mark. The top of its head explodes outward in a thick mist, sending blood, bone, and brain onto the floor in front of it. It spasms twice and then falls limply to the linoleum, its head coming to lie in an ever widening pool of blood and tissue.
