by John O'Brien
Something catches her eye in one of the small shops that she and Gonzalez pass. Henderson and Denton are making their way parallel to them on the other side of the street. Jack had Robert and Bri stay with him rather than deploy with the rest of Red Team. She doesn’t blame him for wanting to keep them out of harm’s way. It’s odd that he would do that now, though, as he seemed to have let them go with them more as of late. They are actually a welcome addition to the team even if they are a little green. Time and experience will take care of that. And in this new world, gaining experience quickly will not be a problem. With a slight shrug, she nudges Gonzalez to get her attention.
“What?” Gonzalez whispers, looking sideways at her while keeping an eye on the area.
“Look,” McCafferty says, pointing to an object sitting on one of the counters. It’s covered in dust but the side is still readable.
“Holy shit! Are those Twinkies?” Gonzalez incredulously yet quietly says.
“Looks like it. What do you think?”
Gonzalez takes a quick look around and sees that everyone is otherwise preoccupied. She trots across the street to Henderson and Denton.
“Hold up here and keep us covered. We’re going into that building to investigate something. We’ll be right back out,” Gonzalez says.
“Whatcha got?” Henderson asks.
“Never mind. Just keep us covered,” she answers with a small, mischievous grin.
Gonzalez returns and nods inside. McCafferty grins and quickly climbs over the sill partially filled with pieces of broken, grime-covered glass. She feels the crunch of glass under her boots as she makes her way around the tables and chairs strewn about the room. Avoiding the remains of several bodies, she reaches the counter and blows off the dust covering the top of the box. Sure enough, the box is sealed and she quickly grabs it, heading back to the sidewalk. Henderson and Denton look across the street questioningly. McCafferty shakes her head at them and grins, stuffing the box inside of her vest.
“Remember when these became an endangered item?” She asks Gonzalez.
“Yeah. Kind of like all of humankind is now,” Gonzalez replies.
“Only, humankind didn’t go on strike. They were fired,” McCafferty says.
And with that statement left hanging between the two of them, they proceed to the corner to keep watch on the perimeter.
Gathering at the Stryker a short time later, McCafferty sees the soldier whose family they’ve come to find. His face exhibits wonderment mixed with sorrow as he looks on his home town. She knows he must be eager to find his family but, upon seeing what kind of shape this place is in, she notes that his shoulders are sagging in defeat. She knows how he must feel as she had thought she was going to have to deal with the fact that her parents were gone. The nervous energy of wanting to know and the fear of what that answer might be is one she knows well.
The soldier shows the exact location of his family’s house and they are soon piling into the Stryker. It’s not far and they soon arrive. Exiting, McCafferty notes that the condition of the residential area is not much different from the downtown area — drifts piled where the wind has driven them. She observes that there aren’t many cars parked along the street and that there are very few driveways.
Perhaps there are alleyways and they park in the back, she thinks, looking along the lonely street. There are a few trees still holding onto their greenery but the rest of the yards are overgrown and brown.
They are in front of a white, single-story house with green trim. The walkway leading to the front porch is barely visible due to the long brown stalks of grass lying across it. Dead bushes, that once must have had colorful blossoms, line the front of the house. She watches as Jack stares at the house and gives Gonzalez another shake of his head before engaging in conversation with Greg. She isn’t able to hear what they say but, by their hand motions, it seems they are talking about how to enter the house. After a few minutes, Jack sends Greg’s team to the corners for security and gathers Red Team.
“Gonzalez. I want you to take Red Team in and conduct the search. I don’t sense any night runners inside, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any,” Jack says.
“Okay, sir. Is the soldier going with us?” Gonzalez asks.
“No. Given what we’ve seen so far, I think it’s best that he isn’t inside. He’s still a little shocked by what he saw downtown. I think he might have seen someone he recognized. I don’t know how, but I’ve spoken with him and he just gave a tired nod. He did manage to give us some details on the interior,” Jack says, handing Gonzalez a hand drawn diagram.
“Okay, sir. We’ll be out in a jiff.”
“Keep in mind that there may be someone inside, night runner or survivors, so stay alert and watch for itchy trigger fingers,” Jack says.
“Hooah, sir,” Red Team responds.
Jack just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Get going.”
McCafferty follows Gonzalez to the porch. The front door is open and, from the wood splintered by the latch, it appears to have been forced. Gonzalez directs Henderson and Denton to the front window to see if they can get a look inside while McCafferty stacks next to the partially open door opposite Gonzalez. Robert and Bri, who Jack has allowed to come with them, are behind McCafferty against the wall.
As with almost everything else, the partly open doorway has a heaped pile of dirt that extends inside. The open door itself is a warning sign to her as she remembers having to enter another house like this one — Gonzalez’. She is about to enter into yet another darkened structure with the possibility of night runners inside.
Fuck I hate this, she thinks, feeling her heart rate increase.
The last time they did this, she had to shoot Gonzalez’ dad. She doesn’t want to have to do anything even remotely like that again. That had to be the single most horrible thing she has ever had to do. The only positive thing she sees looking at the front door is that there aren’t any visible tracks in the sand.
At least there’s that. This still sucks though.
Henderson peeks in the side of the front window quickly and then, when nothing erupts, takes a longer look. He turns to them, stacked and ready to enter, and gives an indication that he can’t see inside.
Gonzalez hefts her M-4 and looks McCafferty in the eyes, “You ready for this?”
“Hell no, but let’s do it.”
With a nod from Gonzalez, she throws the door open the rest of the way. Gonzalez lowers her NVGs and rushes in. McCafferty lowers hers and follows.
Gonzalez darts to the right along the front wall while McCafferty goes in along the left one. Robert follows, taking station by the front door while Bri tracks along behind Gonzalez. They enter like a fast moving mist — quickly and quietly. The thin beams of light from their IR lasers sweep inside looking for movement — either targets or survivors. There is nothing but the dark, cool interior cast in a greenish glow. She hears Henderson and Denton enter behind her and take up positions.
They find themselves in a great room with an open kitchen and dining room near the back of the house. A hallway opens to the left extending to three back bedrooms and a bathroom. It’s much the same setup as in Gonzalez’ house. The continued similarity sends a chill up McCafferty’s spine. Large amounts of dust covers the furniture. The dining room table has plates, silverware scattered across the top with a couple of overturned glasses. Pieces of a broken plate and more silverware lie on the gritty floor beside the table. Two of the four dining chairs are scooted away from the table and a third lies on its side. A single pot sits on the stove. The whole scene gives the impression that something happened quickly while those living here were sitting down at a meal.
“Robert, McCafferty, cover the hallway,” McCafferty hears Gonzalez say over the radio.
Robert slides up beside her and they peek down the hall. She feels the thudding of her heart in her chest from both being inside another shadowy interior and from the remembrance of another hallway. What she
sees increases it even more. Four bodies, stretching down the length of the hall, lie motionless — prone or slumped in various positions. One of the doors at the end of the hall is open. She listens for any sound, but it remains eerily quiet except for hers and Robert’s breathing.
Not wanting to broadcast the find over the radio because of the soldier waiting for news outside, she waves Gonzalez over and points to the bodies and the open door. One other door lies halfway open down the hall with another closed across from it. A third door is closed adjacent to the open one at the end of the corridor.
“Check out the rooms and make sure those bodies are indeed visiting the afterlife. Bri and I will be behind you to provide backup if needed,” Gonzalez whispers with a hand on her shoulder.
McCafferty nods and rises. With Robert beside her, she edges into the hall. She’s hyper-alert and half expects a night runner to charge from the opening to the side and just in front of her. With Robert covering the hall, she pushes the partially open door. Ready for anything, she quickly peers inside. An empty bathroom.
“Empty,” she calls softly.
“Move to the back rooms. Bri and I have the side door,” Gonzalez replies.
McCafferty pokes the first body before stepping over it to ensure it isn’t going to rise unexpectedly. Its head is turned to the side and, as she passes it, she sees that the skin is shrunken against the skull giving it a mummified appearance. A small hole is visible just above the left eye. Stepping around the remaining bodies, the last which lies near the open door, she sees the same thing — mummified bodies with various injuries.
“Don’t shoot. We’re coming in,” McCafferty hears Gonzalez softly call out behind her.
She and Robert reach the open door leading to bedroom. The room is in total disarray. Blankets and sheets cover the floor. A table lamp is knocked over and lies on the floor by the bed. Telling an even more horrendous tale are the dark stains on the sheet covering the bed and splashed on the wall. A couple more of the mummified bodies lie just inside the door. Two skeletal remains lie on the floor near the bed — one at the side and the other at the foot — with a third on the bed itself.
“Fuck me!” Robert breathes beside her.
“You aren’t shitting,” she responds.
Gonzalez and Bri join them after checking the side room and finding it empty. Checking the adjacent room, they find that one empty as well. They all step in. Several shell casings are scattered in the debris. By looking at the scene it’s pretty apparent what happened. They were eating dinner when night runners attacked so they quickly folded into this back bedroom, making a last stand.
She can’t imagine the fear they must have felt in those last few minutes. The shrieking outside following by pounding on the door; seeing it burst open and night runners rush inside. Fleeing down the hallway…the screams of terror folding in with the loud screeches of the night runners filling the house. Adrenaline filling their bodies, fear for their loved ones and knowing death is closing in. Grabbing a gun and firing at those charging down the hall. Hearing the terrified screams or sobbing of your wife and daughter huddled in terror on the bed…hearing their cries of pain as the night runners tore into the room. The heart-break of knowing all is lost. This same story told in millions of homes across the world. Yeah, she’s glad to be alive but hopes she doesn’t have to come across any more scenes like this one. It’s just too wrenching to imagine the last moments of those that were here.
Looking on, McCafferty feels like she’s intruding at the final moments of the ones who were here. In a semblance of shock and pity, they all stare at the carnage for several minutes; each lost in their own thoughts.
“Let’s get out of here,” Gonzalez finally says, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” Bri says, continuing to stare into the room.
They gather Henderson and Denton and exit the house feeling sad and a little depressed. McCafferty feels bad for the soldier as his eager anticipation is going to be met with sad news. She knows the loss of a loved one and the heartbreak. That’s something that never leaves. They meet with Jack and Greg and relay what they saw. Their heads drop with Jack shaking his head slowly side-to-side.
“Thanks,” he says after a moment. “If you wouldn’t mind going inside and finding something to wrap them in, I’d appreciate it. We owe them a decent burial at the very least.”
“Will do, sir,” Gonzalez responds.
“Sir, I’d like to stay when you talk to him,” McCafferty says, to which Jack nods. He then calls the soldier to him.
The soldier arrives and immediately knows the answer from the look in their eyes and from the fact that there isn’t any of his family there. He drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands, sobbing.
Jack lays a hand on his shoulder and says, “I’m sorry, son.”
McCafferty kneels down beside the soldier and puts her arm around him. After a while, he rises and wants to go inside to see what’s left of his family.
“That’s not a very good idea,” she says.
“I just… I just need to see for myself,” he says, sniffling.
“No. Just remember them as they were.”
“Were they… did night runners get them?” he asks.
They lock eyes. Looking into his wet, red eyes, she nods. He begins crying again and she holds him against her.
Red Team recovers the bodies of the family, folding them into the drapery removed from the windows. They take the rest of the afternoon to bury them in the cemetery. There isn’t a person there that isn’t affected. Some have lost loved ones; others wait to find out about theirs.
With the sun wending its way across the late afternoon sky that is becoming increasingly cloudy, we shovel the last bit of dirt over the soldier’s family and, with heavy hearts, load up. We haven’t heard another sound except for our own, making the town seem like a very lonely place. It could be that the energy that was exuded by those that lived here, and in the way that energy was lost, the area could be leaving an energy hole as it were and that’s what we are feeling. That coupled with the loss of the family of one of our own. We don’t seem to have a very high success rate and it’s my fear that we may have waited too long.
We reverse our route and leave the dead town of Sturgis behind. As we climb the hill to the east of the city, the town slowly vanishes behind the hills. It won’t be too long before nature claims this place that was once a Harley mecca.
Lord of the Flies
Back at the aircraft, we stow our gear and grab a bite. The ramp is quiet as we consume our meals in silence, taking in the last moments of fresh air and daylight before having to seal up for the night. Just because I don’t sense any night runners in the area in no way means that they aren’t around. The ability to sense the night runners seems hit or miss at times. I remember the time in Albuquerque when I didn’t sense any and the building ended up being full of them. There were also the times overhead in the AC-130 when I could see them massed below, but only had a faint impression. I will admit that it seems to be more reliable these days, but I’m not taking it as gospel just yet.
Climbing into the cockpit, I try the satellite phone once again without any response. I’m concerned about our inability to communicate with the base or Leonard. It could be that the satellite’s orbit merely decayed or their power systems failed. I tune up the NDB in order to try a different form of communication. It’s a longshot, but the signal actually follows the curvature of the earth, so it’s possible to transmit and receive over longer distances. It can also skip across the upper atmosphere giving it the ability to broadcast over a tremendous distance in some circumstances. I know we are monitoring the frequencies at the compound so I dial through the frequencies trying to get into contact.
I transmit on a few of the lower frequencies and dial upward with each new attempt. As I continue, I hear a burst of sound. Dialing backward, I find an AM radio station that is broadcasting loud and clear. Music plays across the overhead speakers. A
transmitting station means power and, after this long, power means that someone is around to fill the generator. Assuming that is what source of the power. I can’t imagine what else it could be.
Noting the frequency, I scan through others without hearing anything else. I dial back to the transmitting station. It continues to come in clearly without any of the static or skip that AM stations traveling long distances usually have. I call Greg up to the cockpit and have him listen.
“That sounds close,” he states.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I reply.
“Do you have any idea where it’s coming from?” he asks. I look at the ADF (Automatic Direction Finder) which will point directly to a transmitting station.
“It looks to be coming from somewhere west of us,” I answer.
“Is there any way that we can pinpoint where?” He points at the instrument.
“The only way really is to fly directly to the station and see where the needle flips around. That will give us a good indication of where the station is.”
“Okay. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. We could go look when we take off but, to me, I’m thinking there is someone there who is keeping it going. It will mean taking another day to investigate if we find it’s within driving distance, but if there are survivors out there, we should take a look,” I say.
“And if they aren’t friendly?” Greg asks.
“Now, that’s the real question. Should we risk ourselves so far away from home looking for survivors? Honestly, I’m kind of split on that,” I answer. “Do we take the risk and, if so, under what conditions do we do so?”
