Sanctuary

secured a more permanent safe place yet, but will be doubly worried if they gain the ability to enter into locked places.

A paved drive leads from the gate to the armory doors. The sun is peeking above the tops of the nearby evergreens casting ribbons of light across our path. The idling of the vehicle engines behind interrupts the serenity that might otherwise be found on this calm summer morning. I find it a little odd that I am becoming used to that silence. The eeriness of the events is fading into the recesses of my mind. It still feels dream-like but not as much as it once did. Maybe because I am worrying so much about everything that my consciousness is not recognizing it to the extent it did. Not that I didn’t worry or wasn’t fearful before, it’s just that now I am really feeling the time crunch.

The scene at the gate repeats itself as the lock snaps under the effort of Watkins and Calloway. Alpha Team keeps their weapons trained on the heavy steel doors for precautionary means as Watkins swings one of them open. The squeal of the hinges rises above the idling engines as the door pivots fully open. A cool breeze rushes out from the dark interior, cooling us as it passes by. Seeing the dark interior, I expect to hear the shriek of a night runner even though the doors were tightly locked. Nothing. Calloway reaches in and swings the second door open to the sound of the metal hinges rubbing together.

“Mount up!” I hear Lynn yell by the vehicles.

The sound of doors slamming precedes the noise of engines revving up. A few gears grind as the convoy begins moving out. I turn and watch the precession move off. The convoy quickly disappears from view and the sound diminishes into the distance, until we are once again left with the silence I have come to expect. The only vehicles left are the Jeep, two Humvees and a large transport truck sitting in the road by the open gate.

* * *

She scrambles in the broken window, like she has done every night, before the bright light that brings the burning pain rises into the pre-dawn sky. Her hunt was successful and she will sleep without being hungry today. The four-legged one she chased down and cornered fed her for another night and she is satisfied. Food is becoming harder to locate each night and she finds herself having to wander farther afield to obtain it. Small packs roam the night and she has not joined any of them for the moment. She feels like she can fend for herself better although the picture messages sent from the others are becoming more insistent. She knows she will not be able to avoid joining one for much longer and it might be against her will. So far, her lair has not been found by the wandering male packs and she has been left to herself.

She empties her bladder and makes her way up to the darkened room where she sleeps. Her shoulder still hurts where she had to fight the four-legged one but her agility and strength won out in the end. Curling up on the floor, she falls asleep and shuts her mind off from the other packs that are finding their way to their own lairs.

She wakes suddenly in the midst of a picture-filled sleep, confused for a moment as to how or why she is lying on the floor. She sits up quickly, the thoughts and memories of the previous evening gone; unable to recall the last few days at all other than to know that there had been a last few days. Oh My God! Where are my kids? She thinks scrambling out of the ink black room, knocking her shoulder against the wall and wondering where and how she hurt it. Checking the upstairs bedroom and finding their beds empty, she flies down the stairs in a panic calling out their names, her voice echoing throughout the house.

Barely noticing the carpet beneath her bare feet, she runs down the central hallway continuing to call out their names, hoping for an answering shout. The house remains silent except for her calls reverberating off of the pale, yellow walls and the soft pad of her feet on the floor, filling the space between shouts. She runs to the basement and, throwing open the door, she shouts into the dark area beneath the house; the light from outside sending a single streamer of light across the room and onto the concrete floor. No answer returns.

Closing the basement door, she turns toward the front door and notices the broken front window. What happened there? She thinks with an increased panic feeling. Did someone break in and take her kids? She reaches out for the front door handle, feeling hesitant about opening it and confused as to why. The feeling of panic overrides the why and her fingers close around the knob.

A veil closes over her mind like a mist seeping inland from the sea. The panic feeling is instantly erased and the picture images return. Those images convey confusion as to why she is away from her sleeping place. Her skin begins to tingle from the radiated light leaking in from the window. The panic feeling from before, although forgotten, is replaced by another seeing the light and feeling her skin itch and prickle. She has the feeling she was about to go outside into the pain of the daylight and cannot figure out why. She dashes across the partially lit room and up the stairs. Finding her dark room once again, she curls up on the floor and falls asleep.

* * *

I turn back to the open doors of the armory with the silence settling around us. The doors open into a black hole. The light from outside spills a few yards inside but illuminates only a concrete floor leading into the interior of the mounded-over armory. I must admit there is a hunger of sorts inside me thinking about all of the neat toys that lie within; items that will hopefully give us an edge over the physical advantages the night runners possess. There is no question that we will have to penetrate the domain of the night runners for our short-term supplies so we will have to go in with anything and everything that will give us the best chance at surviving any and all encounters.

“Well, we can do this with goggles or flashlights. What do you think?” I ask Watkins.

“Really, I don’t think it makes a difference here but think maybe we should sweep the place with the goggles first just to be sure,” he answers.

“I agree,” I say. “We only have six plus the helmets. I’ll go in with Red Team. Have Alpha ready with flashlights by the door but keep an eye on the surrounding area. If it’s all clear, we’ll go in together with the flashlights and see what we have here. Have one member back at the truck on the radio.”

“Grab your helmet. You’re going in with us,” I tell Robert.

I will use one of the goggles as I can’t fit the ear piece from the radios inside it and I want to be able to communicate just in case. I’ll have Robert right by my side so I’ll be able to yell at him if I need to. The sound of his boots hitting the paved lane interrupts the silence as he runs back to the Jeep to gather his helmet. Returning, he joins the rest of teams gathered.

“The interior appears to be long and narrow judging from the shape of the hill. Robert and I will be in the front and middle as much as space allows. Henderson and Denton, you cover the right flank, Gonzalez and McCafferty, you have the left. Flankers keep ten feet behind so we all have clear lines of fire in any direction. Keep a watch to the rear so we don’t get blindsided if anything is in here. Watkins, keep your lights on the ground just behind us to help keep an eye on our six. Questions?” I say donning the goggles.

Everyone shakes their head answering. “Okay, let’s lock and load.”

I am eager now that we are at this point. That is coupled with an anxious feeling about entering into any dark place. The experience of past entries doesn’t exactly leave me with warm and fuzzy feelings. Reaching just inside the armory doors to the right, I flick a bank of switches to the upward position. No corresponding lights flicker on with my action. Well, it was worth a try, I think stepping onto the concrete floor of the armory with Robert by my side, his helmet on and goggles up. I settle my goggles into place as I approach the light/dark demarcation line, the light fading quickly from light to gray to a smoky black. The building gives off an oily, metallic smell that only a room full of metal parts has. The room comes alive as my goggles click into place. The once invisible parts of the room shine forth in a green glow. I look over to Robert and see he has lowered his NVG’s as well.

Racks of weapons line the walls to the left stretching back into the room. To the right, cases are stacked on shelving units with crates lining parts of the wall. In the center of the armory, empty tables stand with small basins set within each - obviously cleaning stations. My vision doesn’t stretch to include the entire length of the room but I don’t immediately see anywhere something could be hiding in wait. I motion Henderson and Denton around to the right side of the tables and start down the center adjacent the tables in the middle. Gonzalez and McCafferty take up station to my left and behind.

We proceed further into the armory, slowly checking every inch until I at last see the rear of the building. Nothing shrieks or jumps out at us. I didn’t expect anything from the locked condition of the building but assuming something can get you or those around you killed. I turn us around and head back to Watkins. Exiting, I look at the vehicles and do one of those face-palm slaps.