Sweat still drips off my forehead and temples running down my face in single streams. Some run under the bandage still at my neck and sting the scratch that just won’t completely heal. It has to a large degree but not as fast as I normally would. My headache is fading again and I wonder if I still don’t have an infection of some sort from the scratch. The quick comings and goings of it are getting quite annoying to say the least. I shrug inwardly,
“I have to tell you, that was a close one,” Henderson says quietly amongst the group breaking through my thoughts.
“Yeah, no kidding,” I hear McCafferty say. “They almost got in. My back is never going to be the same.”
“Yeah, that one too. I was talking about the spotlight when we were going in through the fence though,” Henderson states.
“Oh, shit yeah,” Denton chimes in. “That was fucking close. I thought they had you for sure.”
“Yeah, you had me scared spitless, sir,” Henderson adds.
“You thought you were freakin’ worried. I was laying there waiting for you to take the shot. I was like, ‘Why aren’t you shooting this guy? Shoot this fucker dammit.’ I didn’t dare move to call though,” I say. “To me, it was obvious he had us in his sights. But in hindsight, obviously not.”
“Well, we were going to. Both Denton and I had headshots lined up and were about to pull the trigger when Sergeant Connell told us to hold off and she would make the call,” Henderson replies.
“I could see their faces clearly through my scope. They were curious no doubt but they weren’t registering that they actually discovered something. Not to worry, Jack, I plan to keep you around a little longer. They didn’t have weapons trained on you and I would have made the call to fire if they made any movements in that direction,” Lynn says.
“It was a good call but I’ll need a new pair of shorts pronto,” I say as several chuckles break out. “Plus, that spot won’t need to be watered for a while.”
“That’s true. I’ll attest to that. I was in the direct line of your, um, inadvertent discharge,” Greg says with a huge grin.
“Then you should be thanking me for the bouquet of flowers I sent in your direction,” I counter. Amidst the chuckles, I catch Lynn’s eye as she nods. That nod tells me she wants to talk alone so I rise and meet her off to the side, out of hearing range from the others.
“Jack, I didn’t want to bring this up in front of the others but how in the hell did you hear that guard walking? I mean, he wasn’t even in sight,” she asks looking up with worried eyes. I notice her quick glance to the now soggy bandage at my neck. I knew this was coming but expected it later; like during one of my ‘I didn’t hear you’ moments.
“I don’t know. I heard the scrunch of footsteps and it sounded like it was just around the corner. Must have been a trick of the night air, wind, or something,” I answer.
“I didn’t hear it, ‘trick of the night air’ or not and I was nearby,” she replies.
“I honestly don’t know,” I say.
“Can you hear anything out of the ordinary now or something you can’t see?” She asks.
I think for a moment and actually try to hear something I shouldn’t be able to. Nothing. Just the murmuring from the teams and those in the upper gym. No distinct words or similar hints of superior hearing. “I hear myself wanting to walk away from this conversation and wanting this night to end,” I answer.
“Jack Walker! Stop it. I’m worried about your headaches and now this. And your wound isn’t healing right,” she says.
“How do you know about the headaches?” I ask astonished. I had mentioned having one a time or two but nothing to account for her knowledge.
“I see you scrunch your face up and rub your temples. You think no one’s watching but I’ve seen you do that frequently,” she answers.
“Hmmm... Well, I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary now. As a matter of fact, my ears are still ringing from the claymores going off and the recent noise in the gym,” I respond.
Her sparkling blue eyes, now slightly bloodshot from the smoke irritating them and from being so tired, look up into mine with that look that says she doesn’t completely believe me but also tinged with worry.
“The headaches aren’t bad and they go away quickly. It’s nothing. If anything, there may be a touch of infection left over. That’s all,” I add. The look of not believing me continues. She tilts her head and purses her lips.
“Okay, Jack,” she says with a sigh escaping, “tell me if it gets worse.”
“I will,” I reply.
“Yeah, right,” she says rising on her toes and kisses me.
We make our way back to the cots. Robert and Bri come and sit next to me. I fold my arms around them grateful they are okay. I feel the absence of the stress and worry I had about their well-being. Don’t get me wrong, there is still plenty of stress but it is over what the night runners are up to and if we are completely safe yet. I feel Bri wince as I hug her tightly. I release my hold and look down to the rulers tied to her arm. A touch of anger builds toward those who hurt my little girl.
Bri notices me looking at her arm. “Gonzalez made it for me,” she says.
“How does it feel?” I ask.
“I hurts a little but it’s okay,” she answers.
I take her arm gently and look at it closer. I feel her wince again but it’s more from the anticipation of pain than anything actually hurting. Her arm is slightly swollen and red at about the midpoint of her forearm. I touch it softly and feel an increase in heat around the swelling.
“Move your fingers slowly,” I ask. She opens and closes her fist. “Does that hurt?”
“Only a little but it’s better than it was,” she answers.
“Okay, it looks more like a fracture than a break. Keep the splint on and take this,” I say reaching into my pocket and pulling out a pain pill. I break it in half.
Yes, I brought some. Force of habit I guess. We always brought some on missions and took them when there was a threat of action. That way you wouldn’t feel the damage and could keep going. I thought I had left those habits behind - the habits of mission preparation. I really thought that part of my life was over. I was happy living the relaxed life and those habits returning so readily and easily is not a comfort.
The murmuring from the upper gym increases. I send Gonzalez and McCafferty to calm and quiet them. The night runners know we are in here but there’s no use advertising our presence loudly. Plus, the people need some reassuring. Their lives have been turned upside down quite a bit in the past months and this is just one additional episode. They can’t be having very warm, fuzzy feelings right now. I don’t want them thinking they’ve gone from one armed group to another with the same intentions.
As the two women make their way to the side doors, a gentleman exits and passes them intent on coming to our little group. Gonzalez looks back and I nod. They let him continue. The man, dressed in jeans and a plain gray sweatshirt, makes his way to us. He looks to be in his late forties or early fifties and is in a modicum of good shape. His salt and pepper hair is cut short with what once must have been in a professional manner but now has tufts sticking out as if he has just risen from bed; which, he has. I rise and make room for him sweeping my arm in an inviting manner. He works his way through the cots and team members. I introduce myself and those around.
“Bob,” he says shaking hands. He sits.
“What’s the plan with us, young man?” Bob asks addressing me. If Lynn had been drinking milk, it would have flown out through her nose.
“We have a place built just north of Olympia and you’re welcome to come with us if you want. You’ll be free to go your own way but you are invited to come,” I answer ignoring Lynn’s, um, startlement. “That is when morning arrives. Our plan for now is to wait out the night and hope the night runners don’t find an alternate way in. Do you know this place well?”
“Night runners huh? Innovative and it fits. We’ve just taken to calling them demons. And yes, I know this place well. The only ways in that I know of are the pool and main entrances,” he answers. “And, I just wanted to make sure we weren’t being held here. There’s a lot of talk about ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ so to
