A New World [7] Takedown (39 page)

I mark my entrance room’s location, both in my mind and by drawing an ‘X’ on the door and the walls beside it with my knife. I inch away from the door in a crouch, heading silently for the first branch leading farther into the interior. I pass several closed office doors. I’m not concerned about having to check them as there aren’t any prints in the dust.

Crossing the hall and crouching next to the corner, I slide my mirror around the edge near ground level. The hall stretches long past my vision, fading away into darkness. I hear the soft padding of feet. At another intersection down the corridor, a pack of night runners pass by from left to right. The last two halt at the crossing and peer in my direction. I tense, thinking I’ve been found in some other way not known to me. One bends slightly to peer closer as if the few extra inches will gain it additional sight. It straightens and sniffs the air. The others that passed by return.

I make ready to turn and bolt back to the room. If I am indeed found, I don’t know how else I’ll be able to penetrate the lair and find Lynn. Without using the teams in an assault, which would be doomed to failure before it really began, I’d be out of options. The one straightens and looks down the hall in the other direction. After a moment, they start walking, vanishing from the hall in the direction they were originally heading.

Great
, I think,
Just fucking great! They appear to have roving patrols that I can’t take out without bringing the hundreds in these halls upon me
.

I take a deep, calming breath. It’s not that I thought this would be easy but I never thought I’d have to do it handcuffed. With a last look, I replace the mirror and scoot across the opening. I want to keep to the outside as much as possible in case I have need of one of the outside offices. If I do have to use one to escape, I hope I pick one with an outside window associated with it. I’d be plenty fucked if I was being pursued and ran into a janitor’s closet.

The other reason for using this outside hall is that it remains bare of tracks. I’ll keep to it as long as possible. I stop after a few steps and press against the wall. I pick up the sound of panting seeming to come from just up ahead. The hall remains empty so it’s probably coming from the next branch leading away. I listen closely thinking it might be the group that passed just moments earlier. From what I can hear, it’s only one; but relatively nearby. And one might as well be a hundred.

I pause, tensing for flight in case it rounds the corner. If it does, this then becomes a fight and flee scenario. Time passes, measured by thoughts and plans rather than seconds. I could go back and began traversing the interior via the first corridor. That will make it riskier as I will have to leave the protection afforded by the outside offices. There is still a ways to go to reach the area I have set in my mind. I’ll have to start inward soon but the longer I can be near an outside escape, the better.

The panting gets neither louder nor fades. The night runner is stationary and shows no sign of leaving. I inch forward, thankful that the hall is clear of any obstacles. The closer I creep, the louder the breathing. With each step, I think about the hall behind me. I may have no choice but to turn back. Nearing the corner, I stand and look in one of the pictures lining the opposite wall. The reflection in the glass shows a single night runner in the next hall close to the opening and facing away from me. The way forward appears blocked. I slowly steal backward until I’ve put some distance between me and the lurking night runner. It looks like I’ll have to go deeper into the building sooner than planned and into the teeth of the night runners.

I make it to the first branch and look down its length with the mirror. The night runners that passed by earlier are at the juncture once again. Apparently their ‘patrol’ doesn’t carry them far. That’s good and bad. Of course, the bad part is that they now stand in my way. I check my watch. It’s still early morning. Not too much time has passed since first entering but it seems like it should be afternoon already. I have plenty of time before the day says good bye. That doesn’t mean I have forever but it means I’m not rushed.

I’ll wait and monitor both directions to see how long the patrol takes to reappear, if they actually leave that is. They are milling about at the juncture of halls and don’t appear in a hurry to move on. I crouch at the corner for a full ten minutes, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure the other night runner is behaving. The ones in the hall don’t move on. It’s either take out the one night runner and hope the others don’t ‘feel’ it die or create a distraction. Although a distraction causing noise will possibly create an avenue through which I can slip, it will bring too many others into the general area.

With a sigh, I ease back down the hall. I plan on taking out the night runner and then listen to see if the others begin making their way in my direction. If that happens, it’s into one of the offices and out of the window. A new thought forms. If I were to render the night runner unconscious, would it fade from the others? I don’t think sleep causes this as I’ve felt night runners in buildings during the day before. I’m running out of options, so it’s something to keep in mind.

I ease quietly up to my previous position, looking in the reflection. The night runner hasn’t moved. As far as I can tell, the hall beyond it is clear. As with the others, the stink emanating from the night runner is almost enough to cause my own blackout.

Taking another deep, calming breath, I slip around the corner. I come up behind the night runner. Reaching around, I cover its mouth and pinch its nose closed while driving my knee into its back. I pull backward to remove any leverage. I pinch its neck, placing my thumb on its carotid and press the larynx on the opposite side with my other fingers. This effectively cuts off the blood supply to the brain.

The night runner struggles momentarily but doesn’t have any leverage as it is bent backwards. After about five seconds, its struggles subside and it goes limp in ten. I catch the sagging body in my arms and listen. There’s no eruption of noise or sound of running feet. It doesn’t appear that the night runner was able to get a message out.

I have about a minute before the night runner starts coming out of it. I drag the body into a nearby office and lay it on the floor. I then take out my knife and, with the hard haft of the instrument, strike the night runner in the head just below the temple and again in the neck just below the ear. This strikes several large nerve bundles which then send an electrical storm of signals to the brain, rendering it ineffective for about twenty minutes.

When it does come to, it will be disoriented and sporting a monstrous headache. It will be able to communicate, though, and bring its friends running, but I don’t plan to be anywhere close to here in twenty minutes. Besides, it not like I had a choice. I listen attentively once again but all seems just as before, tensely quiet.

I radio the teams, “I’m just checking in to let you know that I haven’t become a mid-morning snack. Proceeding farther in.”

“Good to know, sir. Good luck,” Gonzalez replies.

I ease out of the room and close the door. The closed door is to prevent an early discovery from any other prowling night runners who might happen by the area. If that happens, I might not be far enough away. When the unconscious night runner does awaken though, I’m sure it will start pounding on the door. This may work on the positive side and create a diversion. The hallways are empty in both directions, but I notice the one leading off into the interior has trails through the dust indicating that it is used. I continue down the outside one knowing that I’ll have to start into the inner part of the facility soon though.

I snake along the corridor, sneaking to the next junction. I listen carefully but don’t hear or smell anything other than a lingering scent that pervades the entire building. Reaching the corner, I inch my mirror out. This hall has silver roll carts parked at intervals against the walls. At the next corner up, the walls give way to what appears to be a nursing station. I’m obviously coming out of the office portion of the building and into one more associated with patient care. The thing that catches more of my attention is another pack of six night runners farther down the hall and heading in my direction. They are on the far side of the junction but heading toward it. I pause waiting to see what they’ll do. I no longer have all day. When that twenty minutes passes, I want to be well away from here.

The night runners reach the intersection and turn to the right. I slip into the hall and begin sneaking down its length. It dawns on me that this is the first time I’ve seen night runners actually walking. Each and every time in the past, they’ve either been loping or flat out running.

Crouched, I silently step down the hall. I have to keep more to the middle to avoid the carts. Some of them have clear flasks and assorted utensils while others have covered food platters. All have thick coatings of dust upon them. I’m about three quarters of the way down when I pick up the soft sounds of feet approaching, coming from the left. I quickly duck behind one of the carts. I’m no sooner hidden when the first night runners enter into my limited view. With only twenty feet separating us, one stops and sniffs the air. Others join it until five of them are standing almost on my toes.

Of course the others would pick this time to move
, I think, hearing the blood rush in my ears.

I don’t have the time for them to have a tea party here with the unconscious night runner going to waken in a few minutes. They’re so close I swear I can hear each particle of air being sucked into their nostrils. My thumb rubs against the selector switch while my finger caresses the trigger guard. Each nerves tingles and stands on end. My face pulses with the increase in blood pressure. My whole body vibrates with tension. Every muscle is taut. The risk of discovery is great at this close range. Any whisper will be heard, any molecule of sweat escaping, smelt. I keep my eyes averted and watch them in my peripheral. One of them looks almost at me, its eyes glow in the gray sending an involuntary shiver up my back.

That’s seriously messed up and is, by far, the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.

Seconds become hours as they stand in the middle of the connecting hallways. If I’m discovered, they’ll be on me in seconds flat. I focus on my body, willing it into perfect stillness. Shortening my breaths, I concentrate on keeping them silent. I crouch behind my dubious cover, tensed and ready to spring into action. If they so much as hiccup or blink wrong, I’m unloading on full auto and getting the fuck out of here. Out of the corner of my eye, I keep a watch on each face, watching for that recognition of discovery.

It doesn’t come and the five night runners reverse their direction down the hall. As they vanish around the corner, I feel my muscles relax. I want to blow a sigh of relief but restrain myself. I give it thirty seconds and ease out from my cover. With two groups roaming the halls, and who knows how many others elsewhere, I’ll have to move quickly between them.

I steal to the corner and use my mirror to look both directions. The pack that was just here is moving away. The other one has moved to the edge of my range of vision. I verify the closer ones are looking the other direction and scoot quickly across the intersection. If I was to wait and they hung out at their previous location, there would be a greater chance that one of them would be looking in this direction when I crossed.

I make my way swiftly and quietly down the hall, passing more wheeled carts and doors. I’m definitely committed now having made my way through their first pickets. I don’t think their movements are deliberate nor do they appear to have a timed aspect to them. That makes them even more dangerous. There’s no predictability to their actions. They could be anywhere at any time. I haven’t observed them long enough to come to determine that for sure but it’s just a feeling I get. I had placed the night runners into an animalistic category which I probably shouldn’t have. They seem to have some capability to think on a higher than rudimentary level. One thing I do know, they certainly do react fucking quick.

More footsteps ahead. Damn, this place is busier and has more patrols than a state of the art command facility. Of course those didn’t have hundreds of night runners prowling around either. The paths through the dusty floors attest to the frequent use of this area. I check my six to verify that my rear is still clear. I’m worried about the time. I still have a ways to go and must get out of this area soon. In a few minutes, when the night runner comes to, it’s going to get a lot more crowded here.

I’m adjacent to a pair of swinging metal doors with small windows inset into them. I move to the side and gently push one of the doors open. Slipping quickly inside, I ease the door closed and slide the fiber camera under it. A night runner turns the corner into the hall just as I get the first picture. More follow behind until ten of them are in the corridor. They begin walking my direction. I silently withdraw the camera until it’s barely under the door and press close to the wall. I won’t be able to see out of the small windows to observe their passage but I’ll be able to see their feet.

I’m thankful for the hard floors. If this were a carpeted area, I’d never hear them approach. I’m struck by how silently they do move. There’s no chatter or loud outbursts. There’s nothing to tell they are even there except for the sound of their walking. I wonder if I would even hear that if it weren’t for my elevated hearing. Of course, anyone in the team can be quiet when they want but the night runners seem to do it naturally. I’m beginning to like them less and less – their abilities at least. Though it’s hard to dislike them more given the hate I already have for them.