Return

watch from their rooms as the living pass by. Jealous. Vengeful. Eagerly waiting and beckoning for the living to enter.

The foreboding passes but leaves other thoughts in its wake. Were all of the night runners gathered at the BX because there sure were enough of them there? Or are there others gathered in the darkened recesses of the other buildings around? Are they going to gather in larger and larger groups like they were in the BX here or in smaller groups like at the McChord hospital? I can’t see a discernible pattern emerge. Will one emerge or take hold? After all, this is a new world to them as well? I start to think about our tactics but realize that will need to be a discussion with the group.

We arrive back to the airfield proper. Small heat waves rise from the pavement as the day begins to warm up only to be blown sideways and disappear momentarily with the passing of each light breeze. Heads turn towards us from those milling about the aircraft, following our progress across the ramp. Pulling to a stop near the rear of the aircraft, I realize just how exhausted I feel. I don’t want to get out of the seat but just want to sit here and veg. The exhaustion comes from the post adrenaline, the lack of proper rest and sleep over the past few days, and from the stress thinking about the days to come. The stress comes from thinking about the days to come, getting back and the overwhelming aspect of setting up our long-term survival once we do get back. As I continue to sit and contemplate the future, the others in both our crew bus and Horace’s get out and begin to unload the supplies into the C-130.

Thoughts of our long-term survival surface — food, water, shelter. We can live for a while on scavenged food and water but need to work on building a protective sanctuary soon. We need a place of safety where we can relax and plan. A place that is not under the threat of constant attack at night. We have the day but need a place at night that is secure so exhaustion does not overwhelm us. Thoughts of Cheyenne Mountain and NORAD surface. There’s really not a place that can be more secure, I think. Stocked supplies, away from civilization and therefore numerous night runners, and secure. The only reservation I have for this option is that I do not know about a constant water supply nor do I have knowledge of the area. Without electricity, the water supply for the facility will be unavailable and getting fuel supplies there to keep the generators going will be a challenge. Plus, I just don’t know the status of facility. Knowing an area like I do the Northwest will be an important element for any long-term survival. I know where food and water can be obtained and it will be easier to keep us supplied. I think finding a place in the Northwest is a better solution but keep Cheyenne Mountain in the back of my mind.

With a partial plan formed, I step out from the van to see the last of the supplies being loaded onboard. Great timing as usual. Always ready to help when the job is done. The sound of vehicles nearing drifts across the ramp. I turn and see the two vans from Lynn’s escapade driving in our direction. Well, I hope it’s Lynn and her group and the night runners have not picked up the ability to drive. Let alone during the day. That would totally suck! The vehicles pull to a stop close by and the teams exit. Lynn walks over with Watkins in tow as the other soldiers begin offloading crates and weapons.

“I take it all was successful?” I ask as she draws near.

“Yep! Although not the mother lode, we did find a few things,” she answers. “And yours?”

“It was, well, an interesting excursion although I don’t think I would qualify it as a success. We lost two,” I respond.

“What!? What happened?” She asks startled.

As I relate our morning experience, I notice Wilson, Bannerman, and the other team leaders have joined us making it easier to tell the story once without having to either wait or share it multiple times. It is not something I really want to talk about over and over.

“So, it seems from our various engagements with the night runners that they have the ability to change their tactics on a rudimentary level, that they are more agile, faster, and stronger, and that they can communicate and coordinate with each other in some fashion. I don’t know if that communication is through their shrieks or some other means,” I say summarizing.

“I also don’t know how their senses are affected, either better or worse, but we’ll have to assume that all of them are increased until we positively know different. We do know that they have the ability to see in the dark so we have to assume they can smell and hear better as well,” I continue.

“What about the soldier who became infected?” Lynn asks.

“Well, we can’t assume immunity from the virus or whatever except for those who have had the vaccination. And, judging from the sudden transition, minutes instead of hours or days, it appears that the fluids from the night runners are more potent. We’re obviously going to have to avoid close combat when possible until we know more and protect ourselves from contamination better. That means covering any open sores and removing any clothing that becomes contaminated as soon as possible. And, not handling anything that has become contaminated,” I answer.

“Jesus! What hope can we possibly have?” Bannerman blurts out.

“As long as we’re alive, we have hope,” I say irritated both from being tired and from the pessimism.

“Anyway, we’re going to have to define better tactics because we’re going to have to occasionally enter into buildings for supplies. That means that no less than two squads will enter any building and the building cleared before initiating any retrieval. Or at least very strong defensive positions taken first. They seem to be able to come at us from any direction. I mean, the ceiling rafters was a big surprise. A quick retreat route must be defined and that initiated at the first sign of a large attack. No bottle of water or can of food is vital enough to risk losing anyone. One big clue to a place being habituated seems to be some sort of forced entry. Are there any question or ideas?” I ask after finishing my thoughts and look around at the group.

They all shake their heads in response.

“Alrighty then, let’s make sure the supplies are secured and then we need to get some rest before heading out tonight. Team leaders, brief your teams and see to them. Make sure your team’s weapons are cleaned. Bannerman, get a good inventory of our supplies and list anything that’s vital and we’re short of. One thing to start your list off with is night vision gear,” I say in conclusion.

“I have a surprise that may be able to help with that,” Lynn chimes in with a smile. “Follow me.”

“Right behind ya,” I say.

The group disburses and I follow Lynn to the rear of the aircraft and up the ramp. There, crammed and secured in every available clear space is our food, a good supply of weapons, crates, and assorted cases. Lynn leads me to a cache of black cases similar to a hardened brief case. With dramatic flair, she flings the top up.

“Voila,” she says.

There, nestled in gray rubber foam, is a set of night vision goggles. They look like generation 2 NVG’s to me but capable of being donned on a helmet clip or with a head strap. And, as luck would hold, there is said strap in the case along with it.

“You are truly a godsend,” I say marveling at our good fortune. I wasn’t planning to have these beauties until we raided the special ops armory back in Fort Lewis.

“This will truly improve our odds and capabilities. How many do we have?” I ask.

“Twelve,” Lynn answers with a smile on her face.

“That’s perfect!” I say giving her a big hug. “Oh, and transfer Bartel and Rogers to Horace to replace her losses.”

“Is there anything wrong with them?” She asks looking up with concern.

“No, not at all. Everyone performed extremely well. She’s just short on people and I have the most,” I reply. She nods and turns to help Bannerman start the inventory. The other items of interest that Lynn and her group picked up from the armory are radios and a collection of M-4’s for everyone with plenty left over as spares. These are distributed to the group.

I give my weapon some attention after making sure everyone else has checked theirs. We settle in where we can to rest before beginning the next leg of our merry adventure. I lay down on the lower cockpit bunk with Lynn at my side. My last thought before succumbing to my coma is the hope that tomorrow will bring answers and enlightenment as to exactly what we are facing; that we can find some clue at the CDC that brings us a greater measure of hope for survival in the coming days. Information that we can use that will allow us to properly prepare ourselves for the long-term.