Overrun (9 page)

Deanna Kirken finished sipping
her coffee and sat back in her kitchen chair. She rubbed at the throbbing pain
spearing through her head, the same pain that always came the days her
ex-husband visited her children.

She attributed the migraines
partially to the ruthless arguments that were waged every time he came to the
house. But mostly she blamed them on her sickest fears of what he said to her
children when they were with him.

She pushed her newspaper away to
the center of the table and pondered how she would spend the day. Today, she
didn’t feel the sorrow that almost always came the days she spent alone in the
house that was slowly falling to the ground around her.

She took one last sip and was
about to stand when a loud "thump" made her look up. The shuffling
sounds of footsteps across her rooftop cast an uneasy dread across her solemn
yet peaceful mood.

She walked to the window, pushed
away the plastic curtains and stared out.

Thick black material of hundreds
of parachutes hung like bats from the decaying limbs of the few trees still
standing in the neighborhood. They fluttered noiselessly in the hot breeze from
where they hung in the trees and laid across the ground.

Dark shapes of men darted
quietly through the streets away from the house and towards the center of town.

She saw a few of
her neighbors coming out of their houses to see the sight. She noticed a few of
them were lying unmoving across the ground.

Brandon pulled the last of the
grating from the sewer and began stuffing his large frame down the opening.

Larger numbers of troops
separated from the main group and steadily approached where they hid behind the
car.

Some spread out to the sidewalks
on either side of the street. With weapons raised, they stepped carefully through
the shadows of the storefront overhangs trying to locate the source of the
opposing gunfire. Others rushed to save those injured from Kirken’s weapons
fire.

Brandon pulled his arms tightly
against his chest and managed to wedge his frame through the small opening.
When his head was all the way through, he dropped into the sewer shaft below.

From behind the back end of the
destroyed car, Kirken fired off five more rounds scattering the approaching
soldiers from the street’s center.

Mel ducked into the dirt away
from the car and squirmed down the sewer opening after her brother.

Before her body could slip
completely through, a soldier ran from the front of the car and jabbed his arm
through the opening after her. His fingers snagged her hard by her shirt and
hair. Frantically, she tried to shake herself free. The soldier’s grip
tightened. He reached with his other hand and snatched at her shoulder.

Nearly all the way through the
opening, she dangled from the soldier’s grasp and let loose a bloodcurdling scream.
The force of her weight and the frantic thrashes of her body forced the soldier
to set his weapon down to keep his hold. Mel reached up and clawed at the
soldier’s exposed skin just beyond his gloved hands. Digging and scraping her
nails across his arms and wrists, his grip finally released allowing her body
to drop completely through.

The soldier straightened up from
where he reached into the small opening and dropped a handful of faded blonde
curls into the dirt at his feet. Mel’s angry frightened shrieks echoed faintly
from the tunnel below.

The soldier quickly snatched up
his weapon and turned around. By then Kirken was upon him.

Kirken swung his arm hard and
slammed the back end of his weapon into the soldier's nose snapping his head
back and toppling him over into the dirt.

Kirken scampered across his
writhing body and dove through the sewer opening. His body dropped through the
darkness and landed on his left arm with a loud crash. Fierce piercing pain
seared in ragged jolts along his entire body. For a few seconds, the world
around him faded to a throbbing black.

After a length of time he didn’t
know, he felt a light touch across his arm and opened his eyes. Petrified and
silent, Mel stood in front of him and reached to him through the gloom.

"C'mon, Daddy," she
begged timidly.

Kirken propped his back up
against the wall and ripped his dark glasses from his face. In a few seconds,
his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Turning his head wildly around, he stared
up and down the length of the tunnel and overhead at the sewer opening while
Mel helped him to his feet.

Pain came again like lightning
bolts through his arm causing him to stop and close his eyes. Mel held him
beneath his shoulders to steady his weight.

“Son of a bitch,” he breathed
out weakly when it had finally passed. “Thank you.”

Mel moved her hands from his
shoulders and held him firmly by his uninjured arm while they stepped further
down the tunnel away from the opening. He could hear her sobbing gently in the
dark.

Kirken looked again around the
tunnel. Unlit walkway lights hung from the piping running over their heads.
Rather than the stone or concrete that would normally line the bottom of a
sewer, the ground beneath them was a solid rock tile. With an uneasy step, he
walked away from the support of Mel's outstretched hands towards Brandon who
was crouching to the ground further down the corridor.

"I didn't think these
existed," Kirken said stopping just behind Brandon's left shoulder.

Rifle shots and rocket fire
blasted through the air overhead and echoed through the smooth walls of the
sewer tunnels.

“They’ve always existed,”
Brandon responded flatly. “Some people have always believed they wouldn’t get
sick if they lived down here. They even continue to believe it when they drag their
dead back up to bury them outside in the ground.”

Brandon straightened up and
walked away into the darkness. Holding his injured arm, Kirken silently watched
him go.

“Dad, what’s going on?" Mel
asked. Her voice shook slightly.

"I wish I knew,"
Kirken answered sullenly.

They both jumped and looked back
when a sudden burst of gunfire exploded into the sewer opening they had just
come through. Another high-pitched scream came from Mel's mouth. Sparks
splitting the blackness made her frightened crying eyes briefly visible in the
dark.

In a sickening rush, Kirken’s
guilt came crashing overpoweringly back. It felt like heavy fingers squeezed at
his throat punishing him for ever leaving her to live out here on the outside.

"Over here," Brandon
yelled from down a far corridor. "I think I found a way to a storage unit.
They’re all over the place down here. We should be able to at least get some
food. Hopefully some water. And maybe find someone who knows what the hell is
going on."

"Go with him," Kirken
said moving behind her and gently pushing her in the direction of Brandon's
voice.

“No, please no.” she breathed
out softly. “Please don’t leave us. Not down here. Not in the dark.”

“I’m not leaving,” Kirken said
his stomach twisting into knots. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Please no,” she pleaded quietly
again with tears running down her face.

“I promise. Wait for me when you
get there. Leave if it’s unsafe. But, I swear to God, Mel, I will come get you.
I’ll be there to get you soon.”

He then felt her hands reach for
him in the blackness. Her breath came in short gasps while she hugged him
tightly close.

“Go,” he said softly into her
ear while turning her around. “I promise I’ll be only a couple of minutes
behind you.”

Her shaking hands moved away
from his chest. She sniffled in her tears and walked away from him into the
tunnel’s murk.

Kirken’s heart hammered loudly
in his ears. His body was caked in sweat and his lungs wheezed and coughed. His
medication was long overdue. His system was starting to experience the initial effects
of unprotected solar exposure.

"Brandon,” Kirken said
loudly into the dark tunnel. “I'm going back up."

He turned and walked back
towards the thin line of light coming from the sewer opening. His voice echoed through
the corridors.

"Take Mel and get moving.
I'm going to find out what the hell is going on and try to get word back."

"Get word back to
who?"

Kirken was surprised that
Brandon had followed him and stood so close to him in the gloom. The sound of
weapons fire still exploded in the streets overhead.

“Who do you think is going to
care back there? And what do you think they’re really going to do?”

“Just go,” Kirken said facing
him quietly. “Take her and go. I’ll be close behind.”

Without saying another word,
Brandon turned and moved down the corridor pulling Mel after him.

Kirken waited there in the
darkness for another couple of minutes and reloaded his weapon. The faint
clicks of the rounds fitting into its small chambers echoed eerily through the
tunnel after them.

He prayed they would all live to
see each other again.

When he had fully readied his
weapon, he wedged his hands and feet wherever he could against the smooth
surface of the curved wall and climbed slowly back up towards the sewer
opening.

Nearing the top, he carefully
balanced his weight on a rusty pair of pipes lining the length of the corridor
ceiling. He remained there for a moment and gazed out the opening letting his
eyes adjust to the sudden appearance of the day's fading light.

He took a deep breath and
cautiously raised his head through.

The gunfire tearing through the
air had stopped. Soldiers were no longer visible in front of the storefronts or
along the street. Hoping they had moved further on into the town, Kirken pulled
his body slowly through the opening and rolled out onto the sandy ground.

No longer wearing his protective
glasses, the heat and air blasted across his eyes like someone had just ignited
them on fire. At that moment, he couldn't imagine a more intense pain.

He pulled his feet free of the
opening and crawled towards the shredded metal of the car they had recently
hidden beneath.

When he was finally able to open
his eyes, Kirken stared in horror at one of the storefronts across the street.

A single soldier crouched in the
shadows and had silently watched Kirken pull himself from the hole. He held an
assault rifle across his shoulder leveled directly at Kirken’s face. Before
Kirken could scramble behind the car, he opened fire.

At the sudden burst of
ammunition, additional soldiers came running from behind and inside many of the
nearby buildings and storefronts.

Kirken whirled back around and
dove across the burning cracked pavement towards the broken sewer grate. The
skin across his stomach scraped raw when his body skidded though.

Dropping back down into the
blackness, shrieks of fear and frustration bellowed from his lips. For the
second time in the last hour, his frame crashed down heavily across the floor.

Weapons fire chased after him
kicking up shredded rock and yellow dirt. Either a rock or bullet ripped across
the skin near his left eye. Kirken scurried for cover along the far wall.
Through a sticky haze of blood, he turned his head and gazed back up towards
the opening.

He didn't look for long before
the tip of an assault rifle jutted through. Spewing massive rounds of weapons
fire, it lit the corridor like a lightning bolt through a moonless night.

Kirken leapt to his feet and
raced down the passage.

Holding his
weapon with one hand, the soldier wedged his legs and body through the opening
and dropped down onto the underground floor.

Kirken sprinted the length of
the tunnel until he reached a turn. He then stopped and stood still in the
darkness. Behind him, the soldier moved cautiously down the corridor in
pursuit.

Only a small beam of dim light
from the distant sewer opening interrupted the gloom. While Kirken breathlessly
watched, it disappeared and reappeared several times as the large shape of the
approaching soldier moved back and forth in front of it.

Kirken waited silently in the
encompassing blackness not daring to breathe. With quick swipes of the back of
his hand, he tried to clear away the dried blood that had caked around his
eyes.

The soldier quickly covered the
short distance of the tunnel and soon was upon where Kirken hid at the darkened
turn.

Kirken reached slowly for the
Sunszk hand weapon holstered at his hip. He stretched his finger across its
trigger and tensed his body to leap. The surge of blood from his quickened
heart pounded against his ears.

The soldier walked until he was
nearly upon him. And then to Kirken’s surprise, he continued slowly past. The
back of his coat brushed softly against Kirken's cheek.

The soldier took another two
steps before Kirken jumped from where he crouched on the floor and smashed his
weapon barrel against the back of his neck. The soldier dropped dazedly to his
knees and let out a surprised angry scream.

Kirken reached across his chin
and ripped his helmet from his head. The soldier’s hands snatched upward and
wrapped around Kirken’s throat. But before he could tighten his grip, Kirken
slammed the back of his head against the side of the stone wall.

The soldier shrieked in pain and
swung a fist into the back of Kirken’s ear. Kirken grabbed him by the hair and
threw his head again into the corridor wall.

This time the soldier’s body
fell still and toppled over into Kirken’s arms. Kirken lowered him to the
ground by the shoulder straps of his weapon and dragged him back towards the
fading light coming through the sewer opening.

When he had hauled him close enough
to the light where he could finally see, Kirken searched his gear. The
soldier’s eyes were still open and stared out into the gloom.

Kirken pulled the assault weapon
from across his shoulders and retrieved a small pistol and some ammunition
clips from a pack on his back. Rolling him over, Kirken pulled two more full
clips from his pockets. He undid the pack from across his back and hauled it up
across his own shoulders.

Kirken looked down at the man
lying dead at his feet. A sickening unease wrestled about his stomach and
chest. He swirled his tongue around the inside of his cheek and spit a mouthful
of blood on the ground at his side.

The shock and fear that had
engulfed him like a heavy suffocating sack when they first saw the soldiers out
on the street was gone. In an instant he had missed, it had transformed into an
unholy rage. It was this rage, not fear, that was starting to drive him now.

His mind wrestled for control of
his thoughts and tried to focus on the one important thing that mattered now.
Finding his daughter and getting her out. Getting her out of the sewers. Out of
the city. And to redeem himself for the great pain he had already caused her to
suffer.

Alone in the dark with only the
smell of newly opened wounds in the air, he vowed never to leave her again.
Regardless of the cost or what it was he had to do.

He dragged the soldier’s body
away from the dimming light and dropped it in a heap around the corner of the
passageway. He tightened the shoulder straps of the soldier’s gear across his
back and turned down the corridor he had sent his stepchildren.