floor. I nudge each body testing for any life remaining within them. Several night runners respond to the toe of my boot prodding them and I finish them off with one round to the head. The entryway by the kitchen is piled waist high in places where the night runners pushed into the apartment and were met by steel. I go through almost an entire clip by the time I put the last of the night runners to rest.
Climbing over the mounds of bodies is difficult as they shift and slide. My boots sometimes sink between them like stepping into soft spots in a muddy swamp. I exit the mounds by the kitchen and step into the living room, alert for any hiding night runners. A sweep through the open living room and far bedroom reveals that none remain within the confines of the apartment. We’re clear for now. I backtrack to the bathroom entrance letting Robert know I am reentering the hall. It would totally suck to forget something as simple as that and be shot after all the night has held to this point. Communication is one of the most important keys to survival with a group.
Meeting Lynn at the bathroom entrance, we step over the broken door and enter the bathroom. Lynn props the door against the entrance as best as possible to seal it against any light leaking out, and lights the candles. I remove my NVG’s, prop my gun, and lean against the counter with both arms. The candlelight reflects off the mirror revealing a different person staring back. I don’t recognize myself. My tired eyes looking back observe the blood on my forehead and neck. As I look at my reflection in the mirror, it seems like I’m watching myself through a third person. The area around my eyes is clear where my goggles were making me look like a reverse raccoon.
With the blood cleared, I see the scratch clearly. Not normally concerned with such a minor wound, the fact that it was from the night runners and that some of their saliva may have come into contact with it increases the worry factor. I need to be around for my kids and Lynn. The scratch itself runs from the middle of my neck down to my collar bone. In the yellow light of the candles, I see the skin around has already turned a bright red. Lynn rummages through drawers and a bathroom cabinet until she finds some gauze pads and tape.
“Here, crush one of these up and sprinkle it on,” I say pulling another antibiotic pill out before Lynn applies the dressing.
She takes out her knife and crushes the pill on the counter, sprinkles it on the scratch and covers it with the gauze and tape. Watching her with the tenderness and worry brings out another feeling within. The post adrenaline, close call, and watching her, well, brings about a certain desire. The problem is that we aren’t out of the danger zone yet and won’t be until the sun comes up, let alone the fact that there are others close by. Ugh!
She puts the last of the tape in place and looks up at me through the mirror. “Jack, I know that look,” she says quietly with a small smile.
“Mmmm hmmm,” I reply just as quietly with a tired yet mischievous smile.
“We can’t here,” she says looking to the broken doors propped up against the bathroom doorway.
“I think you’re looking the wrong way,” I say looking to the other door leading into the far bedroom.
She looks longingly at the opposite door then shakes her head. “Jack, you have no idea how much I want to but we can’t,” she says with a sigh.
I mimic her sigh, “I know but you’re in trouble when the sun rises.”
“Deal,” she says with a larger smile.
“Come on sunrise,” I say playfully and rinse my knife off in the sink.
“Yeah, no shit,” she says with another sigh.
Lynn looks at the white gauze and tape at my neck. “I think it’ll be okay. It only burns a little but not overly so,” I say answering her worried gaze.
I give Lynn a kiss which threatens to develop further before we head back to the room after extinguishing the candles and donning our NVG’s. Seeing us enter the hall, Robert lowers his muzzle. Passing by my kneeling son, I pat him on the shoulder.
“You doing okay, Dad?” He asks looking up through his goggles.
“Yeah, thanks. How are you doing?” I ask in return.
“Tired, but okay,” he answers.
“Good.”
Returning to the bedroom, Lynn and I sit next to where Bri is kneeling with her M-4 aimed across the bed. I ruffle her hair, “How are you doing, hon?”
“I’m okay, Dad,” she responds looking up.
I smile back at her. A flood of warmth and love for both of my kids flows through me. I am so proud of them but there is also an underlying fear for them given our situation. I wish I could just wake up and we could be back to the world we knew before; worrying about which fireworks show we were going to go see rather than which building is going to harbor night runners, when the next assault will occur, or how we are going to stay supplied.
“We can’t continue like this,” I tell Lynn. “We can’t keep facing massive assaults like this. We’ve just been lucky so far.”
“And sometimes less than lucky,” I add remembering the loss of the entire Delta Team.
“Jack, we won’t have to worry about that so much once we get the sanctuary built and secured,” Lynn responds.
“We’ll still have to go into buildings for supplies until we become self-sufficient. I mean, they have been in mass in almost every, single building lately,” I say.
“Is it safe to come out?” Kelly asks from the closet with a whisper.
“Yeah, we’re okay for the moment,” I answer.
Brian, Kelly, and Jessica emerge from the closet and stand by the entrance. Brian takes a step forward. “Hey, I just wanted to say sorry and thanks man,” he says in a whisper.
“Then don’t go into buildings,” Lynn says picking up our conversation. “Maybe it’s you.”
“Very funny,” I say.
“Seriously though, Jack, what choice do we have?”
“Well, I know we can’t continue in this manner; with these kinds of encounters. We are being reactionary. It’s going to bite us in the ass harder one of these times,” I answer.
“What are you thinking?” Lynn asks.
“I am thinking we have two choices. Well, three but the third isn’t an option. The first is to build our haven, walls and all, then hunker down and let both us of live in our own environments. Let them have the night and we’ll have the day,” I answer.
“And the second?” She asks taking in what I said and nodding.
“Exterminate them all within our area,” I answer.
“That’s the riskier solution in the short-term but maybe worth it. I’m not sure we have the manpower to do that though. So, which one are you thinking about?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I reply.
“Just curious, what was the third option?” She asks tilting her head to the side.
“Give up,” I respond.
“You’re right, that’s not an option,” she says knowing I wasn’t being serious.
A muffled cough from Robert’s M-4 interrupts our conversation and startles all of us. Jessica lets out a small squeal. Lynn and I immediately jump off the bed, go to a kneeling position facing the front door, and shoulder our weapons. Nothing is moving at the door. It remains silent outside.
Robert is in the line of fire so Lynn and I keep our muzzles lowered but ready to move up and engage if something enters the open doorway to our front. Not wanting to risk the additional noise of talking halfway across
