Crews work among the debris, heavy equipment lifting the debris into dump trucks to be carried off. A significant portion of the wreckage in this area has been cleared. Drescoll continues to explain the signs he found and we are soon winding down neighborhood streets. The signs taper off to nothing. We finally arrive at where Drescoll lost the trail for good. We stop and I get out.
Looking closely around the area, it is like Drescoll said, there isn’t any clear indication of where the pack of night runners went. I look for the smallest sign of Lynn — something dropped, a shoelace, piece of uniform, anything but come up with nothing.
Staring at the sky growing a darker blue with the fading day, I open up, pushing farther outward, but I continue to come up empty. I don’t sense any night runners in the vicinity. I push farther. I pick out a few small packs farther south but nothing of the magnitude that Drescoll mentioned.
“You said there were thousands?” I ask.
“Yeah. Thousands upon thousands, Jack. You’ll have to see the video to get a perspective of just how many,” he answers.
I stand for a while staring down the forlorn streets. The tops of the trees sway in the wind, the whoosh of it blowing through the needles of the tall evergreens. My pant legs and shirt sleeves flail against me. I sniff the breeze, hoping to catch a scent. Nothing.
“Jack, we should start back. Night will be here before too much longer,” Drescoll says, hesitatingly.
“Huh? Yeah, okay. Radio that we’re coming in and have the group assembled. I’ll be along in just a moment,” I reply.
He places a hand on my shoulder for just a second and then turns back to our lead Humvee.
I stare down the streets, wishing for a sign, something to tell me where Lynn is. I still can’t believe this is happening…has happened. The grief I have kept tamped down threatens to overcome me.
“Be okay, Lynn. Please. I need you. If you’re out there, know that I will find you,” I say quietly, hoping it will reach her.
Turning, I walk to the vehicle and we make our way back. The crews we passed are packing up and heading back to the compound as well.
She startles awake, hearing a faint drone drift through the walls of the lair. It’s the same sound that she’s heard periodically, especially on the nights when fire rained down from the darkened sky and slammed into the hunting packs. Her heart thumps with a shot of adrenaline, at first fearing that they’ve been found and their lair is about to be taken down. She casts outward as the drone fades into the distance and senses, for a brief moment, the two-legged one. A sense of relief fills her. She was worried that she wouldn’t find him again. She sends a quick image of the female and closes her mind back down, not wanting Michael to sense her location. She’ll have to do this carefully. She waits a little longer and sends another image before falling back into a slumber, her hands wrapped around her growing stomach.
With her arms around her drawn up knees, and her rear sore from sitting on the hard surface of the floor, Lynn rests her head wearily on her knees. Dozing periodically, she brings her head up sharply as a muffled droning penetrates her consciousness. Deep growls and a nervous type of shuffling come from the night runners near the door.
The sound fades and the night runners calm down. The fact that she heard the aircraft tells her one thing — Jack is here. That was either him returning or he is using the 130 to search for her. Of course, having no idea of what time it is, it could be him out in the AC-130 on a night mission. The mere fact that he is around lightens her spirits. Lynn wishes she could communicate with him in some fashion and help him find her but that seems next to impossible.
If that was him arriving, he will hear shortly what happened. She knows he will turn over every stone to find her, just as she would for him. Jack has the ability to sense night runners and will have a better chance than Drescoll and the others of finding her. If he can find the large pack, and pin down their location, he will find her.
With a smile painted on her face, the first in a while, she lays her forehead back to her knees.
We pull into the parking lot with a host of other vehicles coming back after finishing their day’s tasks. A few anxious glances are directed my way before turning quickly away. I’m not sure if the anxiousness is from wondering about my reaction to Lynn being taken or if there is something more to it — a form of mistrust.
The inside of Cabela’s is a bustle of activity from arriving crews and our new guests getting settled. We now stand at over three hundred and thirty people. With our supplies stacked on the lower levels, this many people crowds the interior and greatly increases our need for additional housing. That will have to wait until our inner perimeter improvements are complete but I’m sure I’ll hear it from Bannerman when we meet.
I call Robert aside as he is getting ‘reacquainted’ with Michelle and tell him to go see the doctor. The stare from Michelle is unmistakable. I know I’m not her favorite person for taking Robert all of the time. I’m quite sure she views me as some controlling dad who is constantly taking her boyfriend from her and trying to kill him. The reason for talking to Robert on the side is because I’m not sure if he’s told her about his bite as yet. That’s his story to tell and his time to tell it.
“I will, Dad,” Robert replies once we have some space to ourselves.
“I mean now,” I reply.
“What about the group meeting?”
“That can wait. I have a couple of things to do before we meet anyway so hustle yourself up there. I won’t ask you if you’re feeling okay because I know you’ll tell me if you aren’t. Did you tell Michelle yet?”
“No.”
“Are you planning to? I only ask because it’s bound to get out and she’ll eventually hear about it. Trust me on this one, It’s better if she hears it from you first…although that’s your call. Now get upstairs,” I say.
He sighs and walks over to Michelle. Motioning to Drescoll, I keep an eye on Robert and Michelle, seeing her eyes go wide after a moment. She shoots a glare in my direction. Yeah, I kind of thought that might happen.
“I want to see the video feeds for myself before we meet,” I tell Drescoll.
We stroll into the operation center filled with video monitors. Drescoll plugs in the tape. I watch with horror as night runners stream by the gate cameras and enter the compound. Thousands pour across the monitor.
“That’s Alan,” Drescoll says, pointing to a figure in the middle of the storm.
I watch as he gets torn apart and disappears under a torrent of night runners. The screen then empties as they streak farther into the compound leaving the mutilated body of Alan lying on the hard surface.
Drescoll reaches over and fast forwards the tape. Soon, night runners begin exiting. I feel hot tears of sorrow and frustration at the sight of Lynn being carried off, her body hanging listlessly. Watching them disappear from the screen, I feel a building rage and a desire to kill every last night runner. That feeling was there at losing Nic and has never left. Having Robert bitten made it worse and now with Lynn being carried off, it is pushed to a crescendo.
The last of the night runners vanish from the monitor and Drescoll reaches across to turn the recording off. I continue to stare at the blank screen — my anger being fueled by fear. I no longer see the screen but my mind is running through scenarios to wipe every night runner from the face of the earth.
The pressure becomes too much to keep within. I stand and kick the chair I was sitting on across the room. It slams against the far wall and tumbles to the floor with a clatter. The staff manning the video feeds and radios flinch, glance fearfully at me, and then return their attention to their screens. Several people poke their heads in the doors and then quickly leave. An uneasy and awkward silence fills the room.
“Feel better?” Drescoll asks after a moment.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I reply, “Yes…no…a little. Tell me again about what happened inside. I want to know every detail.”
Drescoll describes the fight inside and events following. I listen for any clue as to why Lynn would be taken — or where. Nothing in his story gives me the faintest clue.
“Okay. Let’s meet with the others,” I say. “And Drescoll.”
