locked from within. She is just about to turn and head back into the shadows when a voice calls from within, “Who’s there?”

“Sergeant Connell,” Lynn whispers loudly, not wanting her voice to carry.

“Who?” The voice within asks again.

“Just open the fucking door!” She says firmly and louder this time.

There is a short pause the door swings outward. She darts through as soon as there is enough of an opening. “With a response like that, there’s only one person it could be,” a Specialist says once she is in and the door closes behind her with a metallic click.

The door opens into the large room where her desk is located, lit by only a half section of light overhead. Four other soldiers are in the room clustered together around the middle, their eyes wide and heads pivoting in every direction. She knows the Specialist behind her from her previous position in the operations center but doesn’t recognize anyone else.

“Specialist Taylor, is there anyone else here?” She asks of the Specialist who opened the door for her as she steps up to the group in the middle.

“No, Sergeant,” he answers.

“Anyone have any idea of what’s going on?” She asks looking at each one.

“I think they’re killing people out there,” one Private says looking back over her shoulder towards the front of the building.

“Easy soldier. We don’t know that,” Lynn says feeling a little more relaxed in the familiar environment of her office and being in command.

Picking up the handset from a phone from the metal desk in front of her, Lynn dials the number for the security shop. She lets it ring for a few times before returning the handset to its cradle. She then tries the gate but no one answers. Several more calls to other locations reveals the same. Turning to Taylor, she asks, “Has anyone tried calling in?”

“No, Sergeant,” he responds. “It’s the same with other bases as well. No one’s home.”

“Is the front door locked?”

“Yes, Sergeant Connell,” another Specialist answers as a shriek sounds outside the front of the building. All heads turn that direction.

“Anyone bring a weapon?” Lynn asks. Their heads swing back toward her and they all give them a shake. “Great! Specialist Taylor, take someone with you and gather all of the emergency flashlights. And don’t make any noise.”

Nodding to the other Specialist and another Private, Lynn says, “You two, I saw lights on through the windows outside. Go turn them off and make sure the windows are locked. I want this building secure.”

They both give a “Yes, Sergeant” and head off. Lynn sits at the desk and ponders over this bizarre day, thoughts and ideas run a blitzkrieg through her head. She tries the security shop again but gets no response as a volley of gunfire sounds faintly outside.

“Sounds like that’s coming from zone 2,” she says softly.

“I think so, Sergeant,” the Private remaining with her says.

“Okay, I’m not sure what’s going on here but we’re treating this as an attack and going on lockdown. No one goes in or out of the TOC unless they identify themselves and show their ID. Clear!” Lynn says once the two groups returned having completed their assignments.

“Yes, Sergeant,” they respond in unison.

“Private, you man the phones,” Lynn orders one of the Privates, “Specialist, you get on the phone and try to raise anyone starting with the security shop.” Both respond with a “Yes, Sergeant” and seat themselves at adjoining desks.

She turns to the other three to give them assignments when a terrific knocking sounds at the door at the front of the building. The Specialist pauses in mid-dial and all eyes turn towards the sound.

“Specialist Taylor, you’re with me. The rest of you stay alert,” she says starting toward the front door and the pounding.

She walks to the locked, steel door, arriving just as the pounding resumes on the door. She stands in front of it with Taylor off to one side. “Identify yourself,” she calls.

“Sergeant Connell? It’s Drescoll,” a voice responds from the other side of the door. “Hurry, they’re right on my ass.”

Lynn bumps her hip against the latch bar running horizontally across the door cracking it slightly but keeping her hand on the bar ready to close it again quickly.

“I need to see your ID,” she says once the crack appears and a thin stream of light pours in from the lights outside.

However, as soon as the door cracks open, she loses her grip on the door, the door flies open as Drescoll pulls on it and darts into the entrance, running past Lynn and into Taylor knocking both of them off balance.

“Close it, hurry, close it!” Drescoll says breathlessly as soon as he is inside.

Lynn grabs the door and begins to pull it closed, the picture outside imprints itself in her mind like a snapshot. The wide sandy avenue, the tan, convex buildings across the way with their entrances lit by lights over the doors spreading circles of light on the ground, the avenue itself lit by pole-mounted lights. The faint sound of generators reach her ears and the sight of approximately ten people running directly for her from across the way freezes in her mind, each member of the group in a different part of their stride.

The picture is cut off by the closing door and disappears entirely with a click. There was a pause as the door was closing during which she contemplated holding it open for them, but given what she has seen and the fact that she issued a lockdown order, they need to ID everyone coming into the operations center. Followed closely by the sound of the door shutting comes several loud shrieks from those running toward it, as if frustrated, along with the sound of many feet striking the ground which grows rapidly louder by the second.

“Holy shit that was close. Thanks,” Drescoll says between gasps of breath and bent over in the semi- darkness of the entrance with his hands on his knees.

A loud thud sounds as something slams against the door in front of them startling the three of them as Drescoll finishes his sentence. Something else slams against the door right on the heels of the first.

“Identify yourself,” Lynn calls out to the other side of the door only to be met by a loud shriek and another large something banging against the door.

“Or don’t,” she says more quietly.

“I think they just did,” Drescoll says just as quietly having caught his breath and standing back upright.

“Specialist Taylor, stay here but don’t open the door and stay quiet. I’m going to send one of the Privates up with you.” Lynn says turning from the door and starting back to the open area with Drescoll on her heels.

“Private, go up with Specialist Taylor at the front door and keep watch,” she says once she returns to the central open room.

Turning to Drescoll who is leaning against one of the desks, Lynn asks, “So, what the hell was that about?”

“Fuck, I don’t know exactly,” Drescoll answers getting a rather faraway look in his eyes. “I was in the Intel shop when about twenty people suddenly stormed into the building. They immediately began attacking everyone there, jumping on them and literally tearing them apart. I tried to help but they were overwhelming and it became apparent very quickly there wasn’t anything I could do. Everyone in the shop was down and just that quickly. I headed out the back but some of them apparently saw me and chased me all of the way here.”

The faraway look vanishes and he focuses on Lynn, staring intensely into her eyes. “They were our own people Lynn,” Drescoll adds, his shock apparent by the use of her first name.

Releasing his gaze and staring at the floor, he goes on, “I recognized some of them. Only, they weren’t really the same. They were just, well, crazed and out of control. All they did was shriek and howl as they tore everyone apart. And, they were pale and blotchy. Christ, it was a mess in there. Thanks again for opening the door,” he finishes looking at her once again with the slamming and shrieks almost continuous outside.

“No worries,” Lynn says and looks at the others in the room. They are alternating their wide-eyed stares between her and Drescoll. “Continue your calling,” she says to the Specialist and he turns back to the phone in front of him, the mesmerization broken.

“Okay, we’re going to continue to man the TOC and try to get contact. Any questions?”

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