runners, I begin opening drawers. The third drawer I access yields what we came in to find, a notebook with the diagrams of the interior rooms listed by department. I tuck it in my vest and start making my way back to the entrance. I wait at the entrance as the teams fold back to the door, their attention still on the interior. I nod at Robert and Bri as they pass by.
One by one, the teams exit until only Drescoll and I remain. A shriek erupts from one of the darkened halls, echoing in the large foyer. We both turn sharply toward the source bringing our weapons to bear. A single ghostly face flashes once at a hall corner before disappearing. I hear no sound of feet running meaning that it’s still there, right around the corner. Drescoll and I quickly exit.
“What the fuck do you think that was about?” Drescoll asks as we emerge into the full light of the day.
“Hell if I know. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that it was a guard posted to give an alert if something entered. It could be anything, though. It could just be a night runner that smelled or heard us but couldn’t come at us because of the light,” I answer.
“If it was a guard, that has some chilling ramifications,” Drescoll adds.
“More chilling to me is that they can conceive the concept of kidnapping,” I say.
“I really don’t think I like these night runners much.”
“The sooner we get Lynn, the quicker we can set about seeing to their destruction. And, given the attack on Cabela’s, we had better do that quickly before they do the same to us,” I say.
“Why was there only one, though? Are we sure there are more of them here?”
“No, but all of the signs point to the fact that there are more…a lot more. I would find out for sure, but I don’t want to spook them. We are dealing with a much more upgraded version of night runner nowadays. Aside from them taking Lynn, and apparently alive, did you notice the house cleaning?” I ask.
“You mean the glass swept aside?” Drescoll responds.
“Yes. Have you ever seen that before? I mean, it’s been a while since we entered a lair but there was always glass strewn across a bloody floor. Now it seems they’ve adapted on a few new levels.”
“That’s just too fucking scary to think about.”
“You have that right, my friend,” I say, staring at the immense structure.
I think about yelling to Lynn to let her know we are here. I’m sure her spirits could use a lift, but yelling would be the same as opening up — if they aren’t setting this up for us to come in, then it might spook them and I can’t take that chance. Of course, their knowing we were inside their lair might do the same thing but there’s no use compounding the issue. I’ll look at the video and diagrams and be back tomorrow. Then I’ll let them know I’m here. Knowing Lynn may be inside the building I’m staring at brings that stowed anger to the surface. Yeah, they’ll fucking know it!
The muted droning sound interrupts her dozing. There is little to do in the dark and fading off into sleep is a blessing. Lynn’s moments awake are agonizing to say the least — time drags on eternal. She’s tired, dirty, and the room stinks of her own waste, the reek of the night runners, and her own body odor. The time spent in the darkness is only broken by the change of the night runners at the door, food and water brought to her, and bathroom breaks. Her mind continues to play tricks on her and there are times when she’s positive she imagined the sound of the 130 seemingly so long ago.
It takes her mind a while to recognize the sound. She looks upward in the dark toward where she assumes the 130 is, the sound of which doesn’t fade nor does it get any louder. That means it could be circling. Could they have found her? The presence of the 130 also means that Jack is back, but she already knew that, didn’t she?
The noise fades after a period of time; leaving her alone once more. A muted shriek from somewhere beyond the door causes her to lift her head again. She’s heard the cacophony of shrieks as the night runners have left on the evening hunts a few times and, for her, that is the only real mark of time she has. This one, though, isn’t followed by the usual chorus. She senses tension emanate from the darkened shape of the night runners. They stop and then shuffle in an agitated manner, emitting very low growls. Another scream penetrates the blackness that is her room. This seems to calm the ones near her and they resume their panting and sniffing.
The droning wakes Sandra, jolting her upright. That hum instills fear in every night runner hearing it. It’s the sound they’ve heard at night just before it started raining down fire upon the hunting packs…it’s the sound of death from above. She visited the large lair she shared with Michael after the two-legged ones destroyed it. If they had been inside, none would have survived. She fears that the two-legged ones, knowing her position, won’t try to rescue the female but destroy the lair instead. Perhaps she should move the pack tonight, providing they make it until then, and come up with an alternate plan.
The droning fades and she relaxes. There weren’t the loud bangs or buzzing sound that indicated the packs were under attack from the thing in the sky. The two-legged ones have to know where she is…she sent that image of the female to the two-legged one. Perhaps they were just looking the place over. That means they will be here soon. The thought of the two-legged one coming to her causes a sensation in her stomach that can be associated with pleasure.
The image of a group of two-legged ones entering the lair causes her to turn her head sharply. She hadn’t expected them to come so soon. Sending a message to her pack, she wakes them and tells them to get into position, telling the one on the first level to keep watch. If the two-legged ones proceed, they know they are to take the one alive but, as for the rest, they can do as they please. Her pack will overwhelm whoever shows up in the narrow hallways.
Expecting to hear news of the two-legged one’s attacking and of her own pack responding, she waits. Nothing. The pack member downstairs sends an image of the two-legged ones kneeling in the light near the outside portal.
Soon, a signal is sent that the two-legged ones are leaving. Sandra doesn’t know what to make of that but believes they’ll be back.
We load up and head back. I get with Robert, Bri, and Frank to begin the monotony of watching the videos. The thermal videos are next to worthless so I concentrate on the others, taking in every detail as I cycle through them. I have the building diagrams laid out and put the outside images together with the interior plans until I have the place fixed in my mind.
“So, what do you think?” Robert asks after spending hours watching video and diagramming.
“Let’s gather the others and go through this together,” I answer.
I gather the group and give the details and impressions about our trip to the hospital — from both the air and ground.
“Jack, have you thought that this could be a trap?” Frank asks.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it. Trap or not, I…we have to get her out. If the night runners are capable of setting a trap like this, the only thing I can think of is that they want to lure our teams in to destroy them. Lynn may have just happened to be the one they caught. It could have been anyone. So, with that thought in mind, we won’t be launching with the teams,” I answer.
That creates an uproar with Taylor once again pleading that Black Team be allowed to go. I understand his desire. It was, after all, his team leader that was taken.
Frank waves the discussions down. “Jack, I have several thoughts about that. How would the night runners know to send a message like that? I mean, they communicate in that manner, but how would they know we could…specifically you. And there is the aspect that they specifically sent you Lynn’s image. Have you thought about that?”
“I guess that they could have found that out before I gained some control over it. Again, it could have been anyone who was captured and they sent the image to the one they know could receive it,” I answer.
“That’s too much of a coincidence for me,” Frank states. “Let’s go with the reasoning that they found out somehow, perhaps as you say, that you can communicate in that manner. It still strikes me as too much of a coincidence that Lynn was the one captured.”
“Are you saying that Lynn was targeted?” I ask.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” Frank responds.
“That sends chills up my spine,” Horace states.
