A New World [7] Takedown (40 page)

As I wait for them to come level with me, I look around the room I’ve found myself in. It’s a larger exam or operating room. Equipment covers almost every inch of the room with a bed/table in the middle. A large light hangs from a swing arm from the ceiling directly over the bed. As with the initial hallway, the floor is clear of tracks. The night runners apparently don’t use rooms in this area, or this one at least. They surely must use some so I don’t automatically log all rooms as safe areas.

Looking back to the tiny screen, I see feet passing. I’m blocking any light escaping from the unit with my body but in such a manner that I can still see it. The night runners pass and I push the camera farther into the hall, first checking the way they came for any stragglers and then focusing on the pack that just passed. They don’t turn but continue across the intersection. I don’t have time to wait for them to exit the hall or return as I am now under a time crunch.

I withdraw the camera and ease the swinging door open. I poke my head out and verify that the group is still proceeding down the hall away from me. None of them are looking back in my direction. I guide the door closed and cover the remaining length of hall quickly but quietly. After checking around the corner in both directions, I glide around it to the right. I’m getting closer. The important thing is that I’m putting distance between myself and the unconscious night runner.

I pass several more patrols in the next few halls, ducking into rooms when the situation warrants. I sit in one such room waiting for a pack of seven to pass when I hear a faint shriek echo down the previously silent passageways.

Someone woke up
grouchy
, I think, waiting to see what the reaction of the night runners will be.

Just outside of the door, other screams follow the first and I hear feet scrambling away as the pack respond to the sound of alarm. Faint screeches join in from farther away.

“Jack…sir. Are you okay? Horace reports hearing a few faint shrieks on the upper floors,” Gonzalez asks.

“Just peachy, thanks. I think a night runner I put down for a nap just woke up cranky and its friends are racing to it full of care and concern,” I reply.

More feet pound down the hallway just outside of my door heading in the same direction as the others. Their screams make the door I’m next to vibrate with their intensity. Several more groups follow. I have two choices. I can either wait out the storm until they calm down or proceed while they are busy at the other end of the building. I imagine they will be racing up and down the halls once they can’t find anything other than a groggy night runner barricaded behind a door. This also may be my chance to make some headway while this part of the building is more or less empty.

I wait a quick minute and slide the camera under the door. The passage is clear.

“I’m moving on,” I add.

“Copy that, sir.”

Sticking my head out of the door, I don’t hear running feet coming my way. I do hear faint ones farther away in the direction from which I came, but nothing ahead. The good news is that the ones behind me aren’t growing any louder. I’m close to where I sensed the one who sent Lynn’s image but I’m still not sure of the exact location; on the upper floor in the middle of the facility makes sense, though. I begin to wonder if I shouldn’t start checking rooms in this area. Time is of the essence. Those which raced by will return, either because they are searching the halls or because it’s where they initially were. Either way, they’ll be back…and sooner rather than later.

I stalk to the next juncture and take a look around the corner. Four night runners stand outside a set of double steel fire doors.

Now, that’s odd. Why aren’t they screaming down the hall like the others?
I think.

The answer is readily apparent. They stayed because something important is behind those doors. I up my estimate of their ability to think and their discipline. They are so unpredictable. In some ways, they are like a pack of feral animals without reasoning that only exist to attack– relentless and ferocious in nature. In other ways, they exhibit human tendencies and abilities in thought and action. Maybe it’s that each is diverse in their own way, individualistic.
 
The genetic changes could have affected each of them differently. I previously just lumped them into a single category. I’ll have to change that way of thinking.

That thought is moot, however, as I intend to erase their very existence from the face of the earth. Now, how to lure or take out the four night runners at the doors without bringing the entire horde upon me? I pull back into one of the first rooms behind me.

“Gonzalez, Jack here,” I whisper into the radio.

“Gonzalez here. Go ahead, sir.”

“Have Horace shoot out some of the windows on the top floor of the north side,” I say.

“Will do, sir. Give her about two minutes to get into position.”

“That will be perfect, thanks. I’ll give three clicks when I’m ready.”

“Copy that. Three clicks,” Gonzalez replies.

I choose the north side because I don’t want the ones already on the east side to transit this area and I want the four in front of the doors to head away from me. It wouldn’t be in my best interest to have the entire contingent of night runners on the fourth floor to run through my position. That would kind of defeat the purpose of a distraction.

I check both directions to make sure it’s clear and ease back into the hall. Crouching at the corner once again, nothing has changed. I’m not very comfortable having night runners in the halls behind me but they are still making a racket some distance away. That doesn’t mean they won’t be spreading out or returning soon though.

“We’re in position,” Horace radios.

I press the mic three distinct times. Faint sounds of glass shattering and gunfire drift down the hall. Watching the night runners, I see them tense and turn abruptly toward the sound but they don’t move.

“Again if you please, Horace,” I whisper.

I hear more muffled sounds of shattering glass and firing. The shrieks behind me increase in volume as does the sound of running feet.

Move dammit
, I think, trying to will the four night runners into action.

With a combined shriek, they take off running away from me. One set of the double doors slams open, startling me, and six additional night runners run out into the hall. They pause for a second, looking both directions, and then run after the four.

Screams and feet slapping on the hard floor continue to increase in volume. I glance behind me to see several night runners pass the hall an intersection away. They go by quickly, but I hear more following. Several more pass a few junctions down. It’s only a matter of time, and a short one at that, before they enter the hall I’m in. I stay in my position wanting to give them a chance to get some distance from the room. I have a gut feeling this is the one I’m looking for. If it’s not, then I’ll fold into one of the side rooms and wait for things to calm down and rethink my strategy.

When the six night runners have nearly faded from my sight, I slip silently around the corner and creep up to the doors. The double set of steel fire doors open outward with no windows, the fiber camera barely fits under it. I don’t have much time. I shield the glow as the screen comes to life. Inside, I see several long tables and chairs that give the impression of a large lunch room. A long counter lines the back wall and, standing near the middle of the room, is a single night runner looking off to the side.

I pan around and there, near the left wall, is Lynn. From this angle it’s hard to tell, but it looks like there’s another night runner directly behind her and holding her. My heart leaps at the sight of Lynn. I’ve found her and she’s alive. The problem is that I won’t be able to get a clean shot on the night runner holding her from this angle should I enter here. There’s another set of double doors behind and to the side of the night runner holding Lynn. Shrieks continue to fill the hallways.

It’ll be a tight shot on the night runner holding Lynn if I enter through the other set of doors, but the angle will be better. I withdraw the camera and swiftly head to the farther corner. The shrieks and cacophony of noise filling the halls allows me to move faster without the sound of my movement being heard. A quick peek around the corner shows more night runners streaking past an intersection just ahead.

I wait for a break and slide into the hall. I lie on the floor near the doors to minimize my silhouette to those that may flash by. If they turn down the hall, I’ll readily be seen though. I’m close but not there yet. I can’t fuck it up now by being hasty but I do need to be quick. I slide the camera under the door to verify nothing has changed. The two night runners haven’t moved. The one in the middle is tilting its head to the side as if trying either to hear something or puzzle something out. I don’t really care which as long as it isn’t calling the building full of night runners to this location.

Another pack enters the junction and pauses. Five night runners glance in all directions and begin sniffing the air. My heart freezes. I’m too close to be found out now. Fear that I have made it this far only to be discovered at the very door surges through my body. My heartbeat thumps against the cold, hard floor. My M-4 lies on the floor next to me but I don’t dare move. Any motion will be seen. Their eyes occasionally cast that eerie glow as their heads turn from side to side searching for something. The chances of them turning down the hall I’m in and consequently seeing me are high.

“Quickly, Horace, I need more gunfire into those windows,” I whisper.

I can’t hear the gunfire through the din of the night runners shrieking and running rampant, but I know Horace begins firing by the way the heads of the ones nearby turn sharply. They streak off to the side vanishing from view. I breathe a quick sigh of relief and rise, gathering the camera and my carbine. This is it, go time.

With one hand on one of the door handles and a finger caressing the trigger guard, I pull gently on the door to verify it’s unlocked. It thankfully is. With another calming breath, I swing the door wide open and step inside, raising my M-4.

The angle on the night runner holding Lynn is sufficient to get a clean shot. It turns its head toward me. The only thing that maneuver does is to allow it to see the muzzle flash that ends its life. The night runner’s head snaps back as my single round penetrates its hard skull, sending a spray of gore across the back of Lynn’s head. Blood flies from its nostrils and mouth as it falls heavily to the floor, bouncing off a table and knocking over a chair.

Lynn ducks to the floor as the flash of my shot fills the room and the grip on her is released. Faster than I could ever imagine, the night runner in the middle of the room turns, screams, and takes a lunging leap toward me. I bring my carbine around to center my dot on it. As quickly as I move, it seems to move faster; but I only have to move my barrel inches, whereas it has to move feet. My dot centers on its chest as the night runner, her greasy hair flowing behind her, prepares to launch into the air at me.

I squeeze the trigger three times, sending high speed projectiles out of my suppressor. Each finds its target and rips through flesh and bone. Some of the bullets hit bone and splinter, tearing through the soft tissue of the lungs before exploding out of the back. Splintered bone follows the path of the bullet. The night runner’s vocal scream of “Noooooo” fades to a gurgle. She falls to her knees and reaches out a hand.

“I warned you that I was coming,” I say, my barrel trained on the night runner’s head and finger hard on the trigger.

“You were meant to be with us…with me. You were mine.”

Convulsing, blood pours out of her mouth and nose in a torrent. The shine of her eyes fades and she slumps forward onto her face.

What the hell was that all about?
I think.

Aside from being stunned upon hearing a night runner verbally speak, what it said confuses me. However, there are more important things to take care of at the moment. There will be time to think about it and analyze it later – at least I’m hoping there will be a later. I turn to see Lynn kneeling on the floor, her head looking left and right.

“Lynn, are you okay?” I ask. Shrieks permeate the building.

“Jack?”

“It’s me, hon. Stay put. I’ll be right there,” I say, walking quickly to the female night runner.

I nudge her over with my boot and am a little sickened to see her slightly extended belly. It also sends a shiver up my spine knowing they can reproduce. The night runner’s eyes are open and staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing. I swiftly go to Lynn’s side and put my hand on her shoulder.

She flinches at my touch and I realize she is completely in the dark. I take out the NVGs and place them in her hand. She quickly dons them.

“I love you,” I say into her ear. I pull her to me and we hug each other tightly.

“Thank you. I love you so much,” she responds.

With the escalating screams filling the passageways outside, I pull back, hand her my sidearm, and a coil of 550 cord.

“We’re not out of this yet. We need to hurry and seal these doors. Tie them like we did at the high school. You take that set of doors,” I say, pointing to the set I just came through, “I’ll take the other.”

She turns and shakily walks to the set of fire doors. I run to the other set and begin lacing the cord around the swing handles, tying the two together. I barely complete the knots when pressure is put on the doors as night runners on the other side try to pull them open. I turn to see that Lynn has hers tied off as well. I make additional loops to give added strength. Assured that the doors will hold for the time being, I walk over to Lynn. I want nothing more than to embrace her hard again. It felt so good to hold her once more and feel her body pressed against mine. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again and didn’t want to let her go. Warmth floods my heart at the sight of her. With the night runners trying vigorously to enter and shrieking ferociously, we’ll have to put that off until we get outside.