careful not to make any sounds. A sudden move on the night runner’s part will alter where my knife enters.
I reach quickly around to cup its mouth and pinch its nose as I thrust my knife under the rib cage, driving upward into its kidneys. I feel the warm gush of blood pour over my hand as the night runner stiffens in my grasp. It contorts its body away from my knife in an effort to escape the extreme pain. I keep pressure on the knife and twist repeatedly. It only takes a few moments and the night runner goes limp. I ease it to the ground, removing my knife.
A shriek erupts from the landing below me, echoing off the concrete walls of the stairwell.
Two night runners are running up the stairs, both looking over their shoulders directly at me. I raise my M-4 and, placing the selector switch to auto, I send a burst into the first one. My rounds hit it in the shoulder and then head as the streaking projectiles stitch upward. A mist of blood fills the air and saturates the wall from the force of the bullets striking. The night runner stumbles forward and then slams face first into the stairs. Its body begins a slow slide back down the steps.
I focus on the second, sending a stream of bullets. They impact with solid thuds into its arm, shoulder, and head. The darkened stairs light up as each bullet leaves with a muted coughing sound. The night runner is slammed against the outer wall before it slumps slowly to the steps. The shrieks fade leaving only the light metallic plinks of spent cartridges bouncing on the concrete.
The silence lasts only a moment. I hear doors below thrown open and night runner screams once again permeate the enclosed stairs. I have no idea what alerted the night runners below. If anything, I was quieter than before. Whatever the reason might be, the gig is up. I can’t see how many are entering below me and I don’t plan on sticking around to find out. Even if there aren’t many now, there certainly will be soon. I race upward taking two steps at a time, heading for the stairs to the roof.
I hear the third floor door slam open behind me. I have half a floor head start and I hope that’s enough. I have to outrace however many just entered for a floor and a half. I’m thankful I took the time to tie off the upper door as I could easily become trapped, the end of which wouldn’t be pretty. As it is, I’m not out of the woods yet.
Rounding the corner, I glance at the stairs behind me. Several night runners have already gained ground on me. While I leap two steps upward, they are taking three.
I reach the top and throw the maintenance door open, wishing I had left the top one open. I would be safe at this point had I left it so. Well, like a lot of “
I hear the night runners on the stairs close behind me. I hold my carbine and blind fire down the stairs. It slows me some, but I need space in order to make it to the top.
The narrow, concrete path is a cacophony of noise. I sense the night runners beginning to close the distance once again. The door ahead seems like an impossible distance away. I feel like I’m running endlessly through a narrow tunnel but the end remains the same distance away.
Just as I think I won’t get there in time, the door suddenly looms directly ahead. I lower my shoulder and slam into it, hitting the latch at the same moment. The door gives and opens to bright sunlight. The shrieks turn to screams as sunlight hits the night runners crowded in the stairs. I would like to say it is with a sense of satisfaction that I hold the door open and let the full light of the day fall upon them, sending them falling to the steps and writhing in agony, but in all actuality, it is a grisly scene to watch.
It is with a feeling of mercy that I start shooting into the large group thrashing on the stairs. It’s not that I mind killing the night runners, not in the least, it’s just the way they are dying. No animal should suffer needlessly, that’s just plain cruel. Before long, the screams cease. Bending over and placing my hands on my knees to catch my breath, I let the door swing slowly closed.
While I catch my breath, I go over the events trying to come up with how they knew I was there. I was quiet and it was apparent they weren’t able to smell me. I also made sure to stay completely closed to them. Ruling out these impossibilities leaves only one plausible explanation, it must be from the same manner that I can sense them and vice versa. The ones below must have sensed their brethren ‘vanishing’ from their minds. This may be something that happens all of the time now or they may just be at a heightened state of alertness and therefore looking for it. As strange as that may sound, it’s the only reason I can come up with. They became curious when they sensed the night runners on the fourth floor ‘disappearing’ and alarmed when it happened again. I know I’ve sensed, from time to time, that some vanish from my mind for a while only to reappear later. Perhaps, at first, they merely thought that was what happened with the first group but knew something was wrong when I took down the one on the third floor.
If that’s true, I may have to change my strategy. It could be useful in certain situations if used as a diversion, but otherwise, sneaking through buildings filled with alert night runners and taking them out along the way may be a thing of the past.
Sandra senses the two-legged one on the lower floors. She doesn’t understand the message she receives from him, but tension, mixed with a version of excitement, fills her. Placing her pack in rooms along corridors, putting a majority of them on the ground floor, she sends an image of the one to her pack reaffirming her earlier command to take him alive. Any others, they can kill. She also sends a message to bring the female to her.
The door to her room opens. Outside, a deep gray only a shade lighter than the total blackness of her room reveals a hallway. More night runners enter. They approach and grab her, lifting Lynn to her feet and she is hauled down a gloomy hall.
She is still nearly blind as the interior of the building is as dark as her room was. Sensing that she has entered another room, one much larger than the one she has been kept in for however long, she can see dim shapes of several night runners scattered about. In the center of the room stands one night runner apart from the others. She is taken to one side and feels the strong grip of a single night runner holding her arms. A voice rises out of the murk.
“You will wait there and not struggle or try to escape. If you do, you will die.”
Lynn is startled beyond comprehension to hear a night runner actually speak. The voice is obviously female and comes out harsh, coarse, and sounding raw, like she isn’t used to it, but it’s vocal and in English. The very thought that the night runners have advanced to this level sends a new measure of terror through her and rocks her to her very core.
Putting two and two together, she is guessing that the teams have arrived to free her and the night runners are very much aware that they are here. Comprehension dawns that the night runners may be using her as bait to trap the teams.
Faint shrieks from somewhere inside the building grow in volume and break her train of thought. The thought that Jack and the teams are coming steadies her. The initial shock of hearing a night runner speak ebbs.
“You do understand that you are the one who is about to die,” Lynn says, directing her speech at the dim shape of the female night runner.
“I said be silent. He will be here soon. His place is here and he will come to realize that in time,” the night runner replies.
The night runner’s statement stuns Lynn. She realizes what this one is up to. She isn’t trying to trap the teams, she is trying to trap Jack. And thinks he will stay with them…with her. How a night runner can think along those lines and have that kind of attraction is something she truly can’t fathom.
