John O'Brien - Dissension

Taken aback by their startling speed and emergence, Lynn begins raising the barrel of her weapon. Both night runners round the truck just scant feet in front of her and charge in her direction. Knowing she won’t be able to bring her weapon to bear in time, she launches herself backwards from her kneeling position in order to gain her more separation and time. The move brings her M-4 up quicker and she squeezes the trigger.

Rounds exit the moving barrel with muted coughs as they pass through her suppressor. The light from her firing flashes on the sides and undercarriage of the truck beside her. Still in the air falling backward, she watches as her bullets impact the nearest night runner in the thigh and stitch upward. Hitting the hard floor on her rear end, she is jarred and slides backwards on the seat of her pants.

The first round hits just above the left knee of the night runner. Entering the soft flesh, the bullet begins to tumble upward. Missing the femur, it rips upward through the thigh and exits the top of the hip taking massive amounts of tissue with it. The second round hits square in the middle of the thigh and slams into the femur. The tremendous force of the impact shatters the thick bone. The next bullet collides powerfully with the pelvis. Hitting the top of the pelvic bone, the bullet splits with both pieces angling farther up. Ripping through sections of the intestines, both shards exit just under the lower rib cage in the back. Blood sprays into the air from the entrance and exit wounds

Being so close to the night runner, Lynn feels a splash of warmth against her cheek. The injured night runner is spun completely around from the impacts and falls to the ground next to her. She feels the crash through the hard floor and hears a whoosh as the air leaves its lungs from the collision with the concrete. Her slide backwards comes to halt. The other night runner is almost upon her. She looks up. Through her goggles, she sees the bared teeth and glowing eyes above her just beyond her outstretched feet. The night runner leaps into the air flying toward her with outstretched arms.

Time slows. Lynn brings her M-4 up angling it across her body. Her vision is filled with the wild eyes and snarling face of the night runner. Arms reach out to her with fingers curled. The lips and chin of the enraged creature are streaked with fresh blood. Pulled back lips and open mouth frozen in a snarl reveals stained teeth. In the clarity of the moment, Lynn notices a gold cap covering one of the upper incisors. Saliva and blood drips from the side of its mouth. The night runner draws inch by inch.

Keeping her M-4 between her and the creature hurtling in slow motion towards her, she thrusts out with her weapon. Rolling at the moment of impact of her carbine against the night runner, she slams the body down next to her on the solid floor. The creature hits hard and emits a grunt. Its head lands with a sharp crack. Lynn uses her momentum and continues her roll rising to her knees. The night runner appears momentarily stunned and she gathers her feet under her pulling her M-4 up with her.

Turning her carbine, she pumps a single round into its head. Blood splashes upward from the impact and the night runner collapses and settles solidly onto the floor. A pool of blood forms quickly around its head. A firm tug on her pants nearly knocks her off balance. Stepping to the side to maintain her equilibrium, she looks down to see a hand of the first night runner reaching out and firmly gripping her pants near the hem. The pale face is off to the side of her and, looking again into its eyes, she sees a mixture of hunger and pain in them.

A muted cough from nearby sounds and a strobe of light illuminates the night runner and area around. The night runner twitches and a shower of blood erupts from underneath its chin. The glow of the eyes fades. It twitches twice more and is still.

Lynn quickly turns and looks around. She notes that only seconds have passed since discovering the body. Silence returns and she realizes that she didn’t hear the familiar shriek of discovery from either of the night runners. This confuses her but she is thankful that the cry of alarm wasn’t sounded. Looking at her team mate standing a few feet away, she nods her thanks for his taking care of the downed night runner.

Adrenaline courses through her body leaving her both tight and relaxed. She notices her panting breath and works to bring her breathing back to normal. The smell of body odor, blood, and feces wafts to her nose.

“Okay, let’s get back on line and move to the front of the vehicles. Stay alert,” she instructs the others over the radio.

Cautiously walking to the front of the truck next to her, she steps over the puddle of blood trickling slowly along the uneven surface. The mutilated and torn body of the sailor lies on its back. The upper part of the shirt is darkly stained. She observes that most of the facial tissue is missing revealing muscles, tendons, and bone. The throat has been ripped away and lifeless eyes stare blankly at the tall ceiling above that is lost in the darkness.

An open area stands between her position in front of the trucks and the beginning of the large, stacked crates and boxes. Flashlights continue to wave in the air at various points in the depths of the building. She hears the persistent murmurs of the group from the sub. In the background, she picks up soft thuds emanating from the same general area.

From her position and looking toward the top of the crates, she catches a flash of movement. Directly in front of her, something moved in the air across an aisle formed between the stacked crates. Due to the height of the stacks, Lynn can’t see much of the tops. Concentrating on the edges, she witnesses more quick and subtle movements causing a measure of dread and fear to surface once again. That has to be night runners , she thinks. The fact that there are night runners moving about without the familiar shrieks sends yet another cold shiver to race down her spine.

“Night runners on top of the crates,” she says into the radio. Thin points of light move upward with her call. They streak down aisles and on top of the stacks.

It’s time to do something. She is hesitant about taking the teams down the aisles. With night runners on the crates above, those aisles will become death traps. She knows her only choice is to shout to the group from the sub to make their way to her. The movements she saw indicate that the night runners are moving toward those inside, if they’re not already there.

“Santa Fe crew members, this is Sergeant Connell. You are in immediate danger. Make your way quickly to the front doors. We’ll cover you,” Lynn shouts.

A loud shriek penetrates and echoes in the vast interior. More follow filling the warehouse with their reverberations. Terror-filled screams begin from far back in the warehouse. Flashlight beams wave frantically in the air.

“Charlie and Black Teams, form a perimeter on me. Horace, get those doors open now,” Lynn says.

“Working on it, first sergeant,” Horace replies.

“We have friendlies out there so watch your target,” Lynn says, cautioning against itchy trigger fingers.

The once nearly silent interior is filled with shrieks and screams. The screams are a mix of fear and pain. Movement in her peripheral catches her attention and she swings her M-4 toward it. Light bounces on the floor off to her right. The wavering beam is an indication that someone is running with a flashlight in their hand. Others in her teams have seen the same thing as lasers converge on the aisle entrance.

“Keep an eye on your sectors. Possible friendlies approaching on the right,” Lynn says.

Several of the thin points of light leave the point of convergence and swing back to the other aisles and crates. Two figures emerge from the aisle racing toward the front of the building with flashlights in their hands. Just behind them, three night runners give chase.