memories, her recollection of those days came in muddled nightmares of monsters and fires and frantic riot police battling hideous beasts and helicopters whirring overhead and cars grabbed by some massive monster.
In the years since, she lived on the run with the other children and the chaperons from the center as led by Jim Brock. At first they lived day to day, scrounging for canned food and drinkable water; hiding in burned out buildings and basements.
Eventually, Brock’s group found their way to Wrightsville Beach where they settled into vacant beachfront properties and made contact with other survivors.
Those survivors cooperated. Fishing, gardening, hunting, and scavenging for left over food stocks kept them alive. At least most of them.
The stoicism-the I really don’t care about all this adolescent attitude — wavered as she remembered watching people die of infections and illness. Worse, her mind stored crystal-clear memories of hiding in dark corners and ignoring cries for help while monsters found others. Friends; children even younger than her.
For the people of Wrightsville Beach, survival did not mean fighting. Other than a few low-caliber handguns, knives, and homemade spears, they owned no weapons. When something dangerous prowled the area, they could only hide. If a bad thing found one of their number, the others merely watched as it devoured or carried off the hapless victim.
Nina explained that The Empire had arrived; that order and safety came to Wilmington and now it would be the monsters hiding and running.
It all sounded good to Denise. The big guns and battle-hardened dogs made Nina’s assurances sound real.
Then the Shadow came.
It started around 2 a.m.
Nina and Denise slept on small cots in second-floor offices across the hall from one another. K9s stood posts throughout the building and Grenadier patrols roamed the grounds.
The stars flickered in the sky with only scattered clouds trying to obscure their light.
A breeze blew across the empty streets and over City Hall coming in from the northeast. On that breeze rode the hint of a sound. A sound far too soft for human ears, but the dogs heard.
The K9 sentries on the front steps stood and tensed. Their sensitive noses sifted through the air for clues.
Again the noise came, a fraction louder but still hidden among the chirp of crickets, the flutter of flags atop poles, the noise of litter scraping across the pavement in the wind.
Perhaps the buzz of insects. Or maybe the crackle of static electricity?
The breeze faded but the sound came again, loud enough to reach human ears this time, loud enough to illicit growls from the Dobermans guarding the main entrance of City Hall. Loud enough to stir a little girl from sleep.
A fuzzy, electric-sounding burst.
Eleven-year-old Denise Cannon sat up in her makeshift bed: a wool blanket and a raggedy old pillow on the carpeted floor. As she rubbed her eyes, she realized that she had been in a deeper sleep than she remembered having her whole life. With Nina and the Grenadiers around, she felt safe: a new feeling to her.
Alas, that feeling faded as a sizzling noise seeped in from the dark outside. It sounded as if someone tried to tune a radio station but found only static.
Denise heard a new sound, one from the hallway. A scratching noise.
She opened her door. A portable light at the end of the hall fired a thick beam of harsh illumination down the corridor, flooding most of the passage in brilliant white but also creating sharp shadows along the ceiling and floor.
The black and gray Norwegian Elkhound named Odin pawed at Nina’s door across the hall. That door opened and Captain Forest stuck her head out. She wore sweat pants and a tank top while holding a pistol in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other.
That static-like, electronic buzz came again. It sounded far off, but still managed to send a shiver through Denise’s body.
Nina saw Denise watching her and must have noticed that shiver.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry. Now hang on a sec.” Nina raised her radio and transmitted, “This is Captain Forest. Night watch, what have we got?”
A man’s voice answered. Denise had trouble understanding his words because it sounded as if the guy chewed gum while he spoke.
“You hear what we hear, Cap. No visuals, yet. I got spotters on the roof. They can’t see shit. “
Nina answered, “Doesn’t sound too close. Did we get a pinball in yet?”
“No, Sir,” came the reply. “We sent the request up yesterday when we realized what we were dealing with. 1 ^ st Mech is shipping one over in the morning. We’ve got rockets down here, if it comes to that.”
“I don’t want to screw around with rockets. That’s not the best way to deal with these things,” Nina sighed and looked to the ceiling as if searching for an answer there. After a moment, she ordered, “Look, bottle things up tight. Stay out of sight. I want to wait until we get a pinball before we start messing around with it.”
“Roger that.”
The radio conversation ended. Nina looked at Odin and commanded, “Silent security.”
Odin trotted off.
“It’s okay. Go back to bed,” Nina said to Denise and added a quick but not-so-convincing smile.
Denise hurried to ask, “What’s a pinball?”
“It’s a special piece of, well, of equipment that we use against Shadows when they pop up. It causes them to, um, sort of break apart, I think. Now I need to get some more sleep, I’ve been going full speed the last couple of days. Good night.”
Nina turned around. She stopped when a new noise reached in from outside: A swooshing sound, as if a large object waved through the air; like a gigantic club or baseball bat hitting nothing.
Denise stood perfectly still. Any sense of security drained away. Once again, she felt like a little girl hiding under a porch watching a policeman pulled into the air by a tentacle, or crouching in the back seat of an abandoned mini van while a furry crocodile swallowed one of her schoolmates whole.
Nina pivoted around to Denise and saw those terrified eyes. The soldier stared at the girl for several long seconds, obviously unsure how to act. But then something clicked home. Some internal circuit breaker connecting a wire between her mind and her heart.
She crossed the hall into Denise’s room and closed the door behind them.
“Hey, hey,” Nina said softly. “It’s okay. We’re safe here.”
Denise squeezed in tight against Nina, as if trying to hide inside the strong woman’s arms. The two slid to the floor, propped up beneath a window.
That swooshing sounded once more, followed by something howling, maybe one of the few remaining Sloths. Still far away, but scary nonetheless.
Nina gave the kid a firm hug. Denise’s trembling slowed and, despite the occasional buzz and swoosh from outside, the little girl felt safe enough to fall asleep again.
–
“General Stonewall, Sir,” Kristy Kaufman entered the command tent.
“Yes, Captain?”
Stonewall sat at a foldable table. In front of him lay several slices of barely toasted bread and two sunny side up eggs, both half-eaten. An oil lamp lit the small room in a soft glow. A hint of frost escaped their mouths with every word.
“Latest report on enemy movements from reconnaissance.”
“Oh, please, do tell, Captain. Pardon my manners; care for some breakfast? I could have more eggs delivered.”
“No thank you, Sir.”
“Well then, you read and I shall eat,” with that, Garrett Stonewall McAllister returned to devouring his morning meal.
