by John O'Brien
“Shoot it! Shoot the motherfucker!” I shout, thinking Robert might have his weapon free.
The struggling ceases instantly and I feel dead weight settle on me. Looking up, I see Denton standing with his weapon lowered and aimed at the night runner’s head. Denton then quickly moves the body so Robert and I can stand.
With only Henderson holding the stairs, the night runners gained some headway down them. The only reason we weren’t quickly overrun while we were being so rudely interrupted is because of the bodies heaped on the stairs. Night runners attempting to traverse downward slip and stumble on the piles.
Glancing to the side, I see Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri sending their rounds down the hall into night runners streaking along its length. The stench of the air that once only held the reek of body odor is now a mixture of gunpowder and the iron smell of spilt blood. Robert and I throw our rounds into the fray on the stairs once again. The gain made by the night runners is quickly lost as they are rapidly cut down.
I would push upward but we’d run into the same problems the night runners are having — the bodies on the stairs are in the way. The night runners are trapped and have nowhere to go. They make a concerted effort to get to us, hurling themselves forward. Our rounds crash into them and they fall, joining the bodies of those on the steps, some sliding all of the way down to our feet.
The abruptness of the near silence that enfolds the stairwell is unsettling. My ears ring from the loud noise we were subjected to. Several pained groans and snarls come from the mass of bodies and the only shrieks to be heard come from the far end of the hallway. I imagine the stairs at the other end of the hall are packed with night runners but they are keeping to themselves for now. Perhaps the messages delivered by Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri have convinced the night runners that the hallway is not a good place to be.
“You good?” I call out to Gonzalez.
“Good here, sir,” she answers.
“Keep it up. Henderson, keep a watch on the stairs. Robert and I will clear a path through this mess, Denton, same job — deal with the wounded as we make our way up,” I state.
It takes time, but we clear a narrow path by dragging the bodies down the stairs and depositing them in the hall. The firing from upstairs has tapered off and the only interruption to our progress is Denton sending the injured night runners into whatever life they go to next.
Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri stay to guard the hallway. I leave Henderson to keep the stairs we just traversed clear. With Denton and Robert, I creep up the narrow path we cleared, keeping in mind that there may still be some wounded or others hiding past the next landing. The sight of the numerous bodies, along with the powerful reek, is more than eerie.
We climb with caution. The night runners are unpredictable. Take for instance, their usual relentless nature, yet now, another mass of them inhabits the stairs at the north end but they are doing nothing but filling the interior with their horrible shrieks. I’m sure they’re over there trying to figure out some new feat of magic to use against us. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to see them come down through the ceiling and assault us as we pass under. The very thought gives me a shiver and I keep a wary eye on the tiles overhead.
“Reynolds, Jack here. We’re about to the top of the stairs. We may not look pretty, but please don’t shoot us,” I radio.
“Copy that, sir. We’re standing down to the south,” she responds.
“Are the kids ready?” I ask.
“They will be shortly.”
“Okay, let’s make this quick. Those at the other end of the building aren’t going to stay conveniently complacent for long.”
Arriving at the top, I see where a previous barricade has been torn asunder. I peek around the corner, verifying that Reynolds does in fact have the south side standing down. It would suck if she didn’t know the south end of this building from a horse’s mane and we have our heads taken off as we merrily waltz into the hallway as if we are frolicking through a meadow. Tables and overturned bookshelves are stacked across the hall with two soldiers behind them holding weapons at the ready. I give a quick wave, which they return, and enter the hall.
I send Denton down to assist Henderson with keeping the lower stairs clear. We may need to leave in a hurry and it would be very cool if we didn’t have to fight every step of the way.
Approaching the barrier, I see the same setup farther down the hall. The five soldiers stationed there take the occasional shot at a night runner that emerges too far into the hall. The night runners’ screams, while not as loud as at the stairs we came up, fill the building with their shrill calls. I also notice that all of the soldiers are wearing night vision goggles. They aren’t the gen3 like we are using (gen4 in civilian versions), but without those, their time here would have been drastically shortened.
“Sir, I’m Sergeant Reynolds,” one of the soldiers says, shouting to be heard over the deafening noise thundering down the hall from the far stairwell.
“Jack…Jack Walker,” I say, returning her shake. “Sorry to cut the pleasantries short, but we really do need to move.”
“Fredericks, Torval. Get the kids. The rest of you, prepare to move out,” she shouts.
Two of the soldiers break off from the far group and disappear into an open doorway in the middle of their small fortification. As they gather the kids, I notice their construction efforts. All of the doors on this level have been boarded up with thick plywood.
“We have the inside doors nailed shut in addition to boarding them up,” Reynolds says, noticing my inspection. “Our weak point was the stairs.”
I merely nod, wanting them to hurry. I’m keyed up from the fight up the stairs and we are still in a night runner-infested building — the last place I want to be. Not only that, but my daughter is a floor below me helping keep our route clear. Yeah, they need to effing hurry.
“Thanks for coming to get us, sir. I don’t know what we’d have done if you didn’t.”
“No worries, sergeant. I’m glad we could help. There were a couple of moments when I thought we’d have to turn around. And I seriously don’t want to appear rude, but I have my son here with me, and my daughter a floor below holding the way open for us. If we could really hurry, I’d appreciate it,” I state.
“Your daughter?” she asks, incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“We will, sir. It’s just that… well… it’s not the easiest getting eleven deaf kids to understand us. None of us know sign language. It’s a lot of pointing by us and confused looks by them. They’re young and don’t really comprehend what we’re trying to say.”
Deaf kids, I think, doing a mental face-palm. I totally forgot that heading up the stairs.
“I understand. Sorry, I’m just not a fan being in a night runner lair. When we leave, head down the stairs, there’s a group down there who will lead you to the Stryker. It’ll be crowded in there, but we’ll have to jam in as best we can. Robert and I, along with another group, will bring up the rear. No matter what happens, you keep your team with the kids and push toward the front entrance. I have another team stationed there keeping it clear,” I say.
“I thought I heard a .50 cal chattering outside. Okay, sir. You can count on us,” she responds.
“We expended a little more ammo on the way up than I anticipated. How is your team for ammo?”
“We’re each down to our last mag,” she answers.
“I wish I had some to give you but, seeing how your team will be in the middle, if you find yourself needing any, there should be some lying around,” I say.
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“You and me both, sergeant.”
Kids of varying ages begin to emerge from what I assume is another classroom and gather in a group in the hall. Most of the kids appear to be between six and nine years old. One older girl looks to be about twelve.
The night runner shrieks at the end of the hall continue to fill the buil
ding, echoing off the hard walls and begin to take on a restless note. When they all appear ready, I radio the teams.
“Henderson, Denton, we’re on the way to you. You two lead them out. Gonzalez, you, McCafferty, and Bri follow when they’ve passed. Robert and I will join you to provide rear security. Greg, you copy?”
“I copy you, Jack. See you shortly,” he answers.
“You pile them in as best you can.”
“Will do,” he replies.
The soldiers each take a child by the hand. Some have to shoulder their weapons and take a kid in each hand. The young ones look anxious as they can’t see in the dark. I can imagine the fear they must be feeling considering what they have gone through coupled with their inability to see or hear. Moments later, they are organized as best they can.
“I’d hurry if I were you, Jack. We’re beginning to get a few restless ones emerging into the hall from the far end,” Greg radios.
“Same here,” Gonzalez reports.
“We need to go,” I tell Reynolds.
“We’re ready,” she replies.
“Take them down the stairs and meet up with the others. They’ll guide you out. Watch out for the bodies on the stairs. There’s a small path cleared near the outer wall. Stay alert for any that are only injured. We should have taken care of them but you never know. No matter what happens, keep pushing for the front entrance. Speed is our friend here,” I state.
“Are you good?” I ask Robert.
“Yeah, I’m not liking this much, but I’m good to go,” he answers.
“By the way, thanks for that on the stairs,” I say.
“Yeah. That was pretty messed up…and fucking scary when the night runner was on us. I thought we were done for.”
“I wasn’t overly happy with that either. You ready for this?”
“Not really, but I don’t see that we have much choice,” he answers.
“Let’s get this done then. We’re picking up Gonzalez and the others on our way. Like I told Reynolds, no matter what happens, keep pushing for the Stryker.”
“Okay, Dad.”
With that, Robert and I step aside to allow the group of soldiers and kids to pass. We take up station behind and back pedal slowly keeping our attention focused down the wide, long hallway. So far, it remains clear. How long that continues is anyone’s guess. With Greg and Gonzalez beginning to see night runners emerge from the far staircase, it doesn’t bode well.
My anxiety increases exponentially as Robert and I reach the corner of stairwell. Flashes of light bounce off the walls below us indicating that Gonzalez and her group are engaged. My heart rate surges. We’re not out of this yet and things became infinitely more complicated having to lead the kids through this mess. Reynolds’ group is held up on the stairs as they negotiate the basically blind and deaf kids through and around the bodies.
Perhaps sensing their prey is about to leave, the night runners explode into action. Shrieks increase in volume, rebounding down the hall both on our floor and below us as they pour into the halls. They are empty one moment and then filled with their ghostly faces the next as they begin to race down the corridors toward us.
“Reynolds, we need to move now,” I call.
“We’re about through the first set of stairs,” she replies.
“You need to step up the pace. Pick them up if you have to, but it’s about to get real sporty in here,” I says.
“We’re linking up with the others now,” she states.
“Starting down the stairs,” Henderson reports.
The increase of flashes from Gonzalez tells me that more night runner have entered the second floor hall. Greg reports that he is heavily engaged as well. It’s past time we became like The Flash and beat cheeks out of here. As of yet, Robert and I haven’t seen any night runners appear on the landing above us but it’s only a matter of time before they do — that time measured in seconds if the sound of the night runners rushing down the hall is any indication.
As Robert and I reach the intermediate landing between the second and third floor, the first of the night runners appear above. We have to back pedal slowly due to the last of Reynolds’ group still traversing the narrow path. Having to negotiate this has strung them out. When the shrieks decrease in volume for brief periods of time, I hear the children sobbing as they are led through the darkness.
“Move and fire. A fighting withdrawal. Watch your footing,” I yell to Robert.
“Gotcha,” he says, firing into the night runners behind us.
Night runners fall to the floor and stairs as Robert and I send burst after burst into their midst. It’s treacherous footing as we back down the restricted path. Each step down narrows our field of view upstairs but we manage to keep the advance of the horde at bay. They gain a little distance when we have to reload our mags, which are becoming scarcer as we cycle rounds through our chambers.
Reaching the second floor, I see that Reynolds and her group are making better headway on the lower stairs. Looking at Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri, lined across the hallway and heavily engaged, I notice night runners filling the hall shoulder to shoulder and attempting to race down the corridor. Bodies lie on the floor with more dropping as the trio pour out concentrated fire. The overwhelming numbers of night runners, however, dictate that the current status quo will change soon.
“Gonzalez, time to go. Robert and I will bring up the rear,” I shout.
She, McCafferty, and Bri cease firing and turn toward the stairs. Robert and I pick up their fire and walk backwards, sending rounds downrange. We’re not trying to eliminate them, just keep some breathing space as we make our way out. That breathing space, however, is shrinking by the second.
“Keep them at bay. Go full auto if you have to,” I yell to Robert as I reach down and pull out two hand grenades.
Quickly pulling the pins and holding one in each hand, I toss them into the hall ahead of the advancing horde.
“Go!” I yell.
Without waiting to watch where they land, I turn to bolt around the corner and enter the stairs with Robert at my side.
“Greg, we’re coming on the run and bringing company,” I radio.
The grenades go off with a thundering, simultaneous explosion, lighting up the hall like a sun going nova. Smoke roils past the opening. The stairs shake as the shockwave is transmitted throughout the building. I hope that gained us a sufficient margin of safety to make it to the others below and to the Stryker.
On the first floor, still walking quickly backward, I glance over my shoulder toward the entrance. Strobes light the hall where Greg’s team is engaging night runners coming from the far stairs. Greg has arranged his small team on the far side of the entrance hallway and is directing the soldiers and kids toward the waiting Stryker. Gonzalez, McCafferty, and Bri are just in front of Robert and me as they make for the armored vehicle and safety. They aren’t racing but hanging back in case Robert and I need assistance keeping the night runners off our backs.
A short distance down the hall, with no sign of night runners emerging from the stairwell, I turn and begin picking up the pace when I hear Robert say, “Cover me.”
I turn around and see a little girl standing in the hall just outside the opening of the stairway. She is standing there looking in all directions, obviously confused and scared. I have no clue how she managed to get there or where she was previously. Robert, without waiting for an answer from me, races down the hall toward her.
* * *
The push into the building and up the upstairs has been one scary scene after another. The sight of the hordes of night runners sent a surge of adrenaline and fear through him that was almost overwhelming. The sights, sounds, and intensity just about overcame his senses, especially when the night runner slammed into and then fell on him and his dad. That was terrifying, yet, they managed to extricate themselves with the help of Denton. Through it all, Robert managed to maintain a very fragile grip on his fear. The sheer intensity of it all h
elped keep his mind occupied.
Yeah, the night has been a hard fight but we are finally making our way to the Stryker. I can’t wait for this to be over, he thinks, glancing behind him for any sign of night runners appearing.
The sight of a little girl emerging from the stairwell startles him. He stares in disbelief.
How the fuck did she get there? he thinks, looking at the girl who was somehow left behind. She is crying and looking wildly in all directions, obviously frightened.
“Cover me,” he yells to his dad, and, without thinking, he races back down the hall toward the confused and stationary child.
As he runs toward the little girl, he sees her start down the hall in his direction and then slumps to the ground, obviously unsure where to go. Just before reaching her, night runners emerge from the stairwell behind her. He slows his run and begins delivering short, controlled bursts into the closest ones attempting to keep them from the crying girl on the floor. His rounds streak over her head and impact forcefully into the lead night runners, sending them to the ground or into the ones behind. Step…fire…step…fire…
Reaching the girl ahead of the night runners, and with them scant feet away, he goes to his knees and scoops up the girl with one arm while continuing to pump rounds into the horde with his M-4 held in the other. Amidst the shrieks, he hears feet thumping down the stairs just around the corner. More night runners will soon be joining in the fray. His heart races as he starts dashing back down the hall, his progress slowed by having to both carry the child and keep the night runners at bay.
Having to fire one-handed and behind him causes his aim to be off. A night runner launches out of the pack and slams into him, sending him flying to the ground with the creature falling heavily on him and wrapped around his legs. He hits the ground hard, jarring his senses, and loses his grip on both the carbine and the girl. The M-4 clatters across the floor out of reach. The girl falls in front of him and stares at him wildly with wide, frightened eyes.
