number of times we are going to have to do this in order to get supplies before we are able to be self-sufficient. We are going to have to plant crops, hunt, fish, develop adequate water supplies and such, but until then, non- perishables and bottled water are our friend. Of course we’ll have natural water and it should be easy to find back home in the Northwest but we’ll have to be careful of anything close to cities.
Lights illuminates us as Blue Team turns down our aisle. The thoughts in my head vanish as if the lights banished them. Horace and her group begin removing the cases and gallon jugs of water from the shelves. From the looks of things and the scarcity of them, it should only take them about two trips. It should be enough to keep us for a few days. As they start back up the aisle for their second trip, the startling sound of something metallic hitting the ground sounds out from the inky dark in the back in the store. It sounds like a pan hitting the floor and skittering across it. The sudden noise causes an adrenaline release. With the adrenaline hitting, the pounding of my heart feels like a bass drum being hit.
Lights converge in the direction of the sound and all movement stops as our alertness meter climbs to the top. The shelves block most of our vision toward the back. More sounds of items falling from shelves echoes throughout. It is hard to tell in here if it is getting closer but the noise is becoming constant. Gonzalez edges to the far right of the lane with McCafferty on the left. All of our weapons are pointed down the open lane. Gonzalez looks back at me over her shoulder asking for direction.
“Keep alert and focused. We’re the rear guard. We’re going to cover and pull back once Blue is clear. As you know, they come suddenly,” I whisper to her turning to Horace and her crew.
“Horace, get out of here. We’re covering. Tell Henderson to remain in place until we get to the entrance. Go,” I say down the aisle where they have become as still as statues. Alert, tense, and focused toward the continued noise of items falling.
The sound is coming rapidly closer. Amongst the clatter, I make out the faint slap of feet on the floor, although muted in some way. Our lights are focused in the middle of the store where the majority of the noise is rapidly drawing near, but without picking up a sight of anything. Horace and her team begin withdrawing backward down the aisle toward the entrance, still facing in the direction of whatever is coming toward them. I can tell that they aren’t going to make it to the end of the aisle before whatever is making the sound is upon them. I see by their faces that they know it too.
I stand to get a better angle over the shelves. My light immediately catches sight of a night runner leaping across the top of the shelves; the gray-skinned creature gathers itself before leaping to the next shelf, with other night runners adjacent to it and more following. I immediately open fire on the closest one. The solid thuds of high speed steel impacting flesh and bone are subdued beneath the echoing crack of the rounds being fired. I catch the one in mid-leap across the chest causing it to somersault in mid-air, crashing heavily into the shelf in front of it from its forward momentum. Strobes flash behind me as Robert opens up on others. I flinch as his barrel fires close to my ears causing them to ring loudly.
“They’re on the shelves!” I yell out.
The night runners are converging on Horace’s group in the aisle who are quickly making their way to the entrance end but the night runners are going to be on them before they make it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement down the lane towards the back of the store coming into the cones of light from Gonzalez and McCafferty. More emerge from the hallway entrance on the left side, crossing the lane and light quickly before heading down the aisle across. More shots ring out as both women engage an increasing number of emerging night runners. Temporal distortion sets in.
Gonzalez and McCafferty kneel on the floor on opposite sides of the lane. Night runners fall as they run into the light painted towards them but more replace those fallen. Rounds strike some of those coming out of the hallway entrance and they pitch forward headlong, disappearing down the aisle behind the shelves. Some fall there with only their feet extending into the lane. I notice some continue to move slowly, crawling down the aisle, signifying they are only injured. The sound of gunfire is continuous as we fight back the sudden rush of the horde. Robert and I are concentrating on the ones leaping across the shelves, Gonzalez and McCafferty focus on the ones on the ground.
Steel fills the air as we attempt to hold them back. Gray bodies seem a solid mass as our light picks them up. Blood sprays from many and they fall or are driven backwards but they are quickly over-trodden by many more behind them. As we reload, magazines clatter across the linoleum where once only shopping carts rolled. The rapid and constant sound of spent cartridge rounds clink as the floor quickly fills with brass. Strobes fill the air, momentarily outshining the light from our flashlights. My hearing is now completely gone on the left side but I don’t notice the ringing. Adrenaline and focus have taken over.
The night runners quickly close the gap on Horace’s team and on us because of their numbers and how close they were to us when they started. Blue Team is running with their rifles pointed left, unable to see anything over the shelf beside them. Anxious and knowing they are about to be beset upon yet unable to do anything about it. I know that feeling. It is a feeling that makes you sick at heart; a very desperate, lonely and out of control feeling. The first night runner leaps on the shelf next to them and slams into the trailing member.
With the strong smell of gunpowder hanging in the air, I see a night runner leap from the shelf and hit a Blue Team member from behind, both of them falling to the ground. He lets out a surprised shout as he falls face forward with the night runner on his back. The light from his flashlight spins as his rifle hits the ground with a clatter, coming to rest ahead of him against the shelf. My light illuminates the night runner’s back as it bends forward and its hands flail wildly as it begins clawing at the fallen soldier. I would take the shot but I don’t want to risk hitting the team member, and other members of Corporal Horace’s team are in my line of fire should a bullet go all of the way through. The Blue member screams again as fingernails and teeth begin to find their mark. He twists and turns in an attempt to throw the night runner off his back but the creature is too well situated for him to gain any leverage.
“Cover me and keep them off my back!” I yell over my shoulder to Robert and take off down the aisle without waiting for a response.
My ear is ringing so bad that I don’t think I would hear one even if it is given. Continued flashes from Robert’s M-16, and seeing night runners vanish from on top of the shelves as his rounds find their mark, tells me he either heard or is just continuing on with what he was doing before. Either way, my back is clear for the moment. My vision is blocked by a shelf as I enter the aisle bringing my visual perspective down substantially.
I tear off down the aisle feeling helpless by my being unable to shoot the night runner off our member who is down and hearing his continued screams. Just as I arrive behind the night runner, the remaining upright soldiers from Horace’s group round the corner of the aisle, apparently not realizing that one of them is down. The night runner raises its head just as I arrive in an apparent attempt to find another place to bite. I bring the butt of my M-4 against the base of its skull, hitting it with a resounding crack and sending it sprawling forward. Reversing my carbine, I fire a short burst into it before it has a chance to hit the floor. Blood sprays from between its shoulder blades, neck and the back of its head in rapid succession as my rounds find their mark. The top of its head explodes outward in a thick mist, sending blood, bone, and brain onto the floor in front of it. It spasms twice and then falls limply to the linoleum, its head coming to lie in an ever widening pool of blood and tissue.
Additional flashes of light strobe ahead like a disco dance floor. Corporal Horace and the others have joined in the fight and are helping Henderson, Denton, Rogers, and Bartel in their battle to keep the area to the front clear. The noise coming to what is left of my hearing indicates a full-fledged firefight in progress all around. The continuous pop, pop, pop of steel leaving the chambers of a multitude of rifles makes up a majority of the noise with shouts of communication sometime rising above the cacophony. Fleshy thuds of steel-jacketed bullets finding their marks, solid thumps from those that miss; hitting cans, shelves, floor and walls, ferocious howls of pain, shrieks born from desire and excitement, the crash of bodies hitting the ground and shelves, knocking assorted good from where they sit all add to the din echoing in the building. Within it, I hear moaning coming from the Blue member at my feet.
I begin to turn to my left when I’m hit solidly from above knocking me backwards. Maintaining that turn forcefully so as to end up on my back, I sweep my left hand out and bring my M-4 around with my right as I continue to fall, hitting the floor on my back adjacent to the member already down. Something heavy lies across
