John O'Brien - Takedown

The night runners pouring from the stairs are just feet away from Robert and it’s only a matter of seconds before he is engulfed by them. Flipping the selector switch to semi, I begin firing rounds into the night runners threatening my son. I can’t get a clean shot on the one on his legs, but that will change as I draw closer. Right now, I have to keep the other night runners from tearing him apart.

Continuing to run forward, I line up head shot after head shot. Night runners fall with each one. I see Robert point down the hall and see the girl take off, running quickly by me toward the entrance. Paying her little heed, I continue to deliver rounds and make my way toward Robert. I feel like I’m walking through water as the distance closes far too slowly. I then hear what I dreaded the most — Robert screaming in pain.

With my focus on both Robert and the horde just behind him, I watch as he takes out his handgun and fires into the top of the night runner’s head that is clamped securely to his leg. It drops in a heap. I continue firing into a group of night runners quickly approaching down the hall with more shrieking behind. He begins to clear the night runner off of his legs as I reach him. I quickly change mags, then grab his drag handle and begin pulling, firing one-handed into the mass of night runners filling the hall.

Clearing him from the dead night runner, I’m thankful for the smooth floor as it’s easier to pull him. I keep firing to keep the separation between us and the night runners. It’s slow going and I only have a limited amount of ammo remaining. Once that’s gone, there is little chance of me holding the crowd off. Robert fires his Beretta while being dragged. The slide soon falls back in the open position indicating he’s out of rounds. The night runners are gaining ground on us.

“I can walk,” he yells and begins to rise.

I sense others beside me and see night runners begin to fall en masse . Glancing to the side, I see Gonzalez and McCafferty firing down the hall. The cavalry has arrived.

“Go, sir! We’ve got this,” Gonzalez yells.

Robert rises to his feet. I throw my arm around him and help him limp to the entrance hall. As we depart, Henderson and Denton fill the gap we left and begin firing volleys into the night runners closing in. I notice Greg’s team heavily engaged with night runners on the other side. Rounding the corner, I see Greg hurry in our direction from the Stryker opening having apparently settled our guests.

“What happened?” he asks, noticing Robert limping with my arm around him.

“He was bitten,” I shout. Yelling is the only way to be heard in the cacophony of shrieks and screams. “Your team is on the right, Red is on the left. Pull them back and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I see an expression of worry cross his features at my comment about Robert but he nods and hurries off. I get to the Stryker filled with kids and Reynolds’ soldiers. It’s crammed full, but we’re going to have to pack even tighter with the teams behind conducting a fighting withdrawal. A series of titanic, rumbling explosions comes from inside the building. Turning, I see the teams in full retreat down the entrance hall.

“Make room! Pile on top of one another,” I yell, setting Robert down on one of the seats.

I lean over him, pressing against one of the walls to make room for those streaking down the corridor. They pile into the Stryker and, as they do, the ability to move becomes impossible. Sardines in a can have the luxury of roomy accommodations compared to us but we manage. The rear ramp closes with a clang muting the screams of night runners.

“Get us out of here,” I yell, barely able to inhale enough to do so.

The vehicle lurches forward. None of us inside move as there’s barely enough room to breathe. We rumble down the stairs and begin accelerating across the parking lot, leaving what’s left of the night runners on their own. Normally, I’d have a sense of relief, but my son, sitting pressed against me, has been bitten. I know what that means and my inability to do anything at the moment heightens my anxiety.

“Where to?” I hear Greg’s voice rise above the sobbing of the children.

This can’t be very comfortable for them as we are basically stacked like cordwood inside.

“We need to get to an open stretch of highway where there’s no danger of night runners and do so in a hurry,” I shout back.

My fear for Robert constricts me more than the press of bodies. I feel like I’m being crushed inside and find it hard to breathe. The vehicle can’t move fast enough. I need to look at his injuries - to get some antibiotics into him and on his wound. And I mean now!

“How are you doing?” I ask, not able to even move my head down to look at him.

“Okay, I think. It burns a little, but most of the pain has gone away,” Robert replies.

“Robert? Are you okay?” I hear Bri’s voice call out from somewhere in the tangle of bodies.

“I’m fine, Bri,” he answers.

“Are you okay, Bri?” I ask.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

I’m thankful to hear her voice and know she is safe. The terrible moments of seeing Robert go down continue to run through my mind like a horror movie being played over and over.

“Bravest thing I ever saw,” Gonzalez says from somewhere close.

“Thanks,” Robert responds shyly.

“And maybe the dumbest,” I mutter.

“I know, Dad. I just saw her and reacted. Sorry,” Robert says.

The truth of the matter is, I would have done the same thing had I noticed the girl. Anyone here would have. Robert’s reaction shows that truly he is a soldier.

But, fuck, did he have to go and get bit , I think.

My anxiety doubles with that thought. I know what I went through and saw others who didn’t make it after they were bitten. If I lose another of my kids, I honestly don’t know how I’ll survive. My stomach is in knots and I can feel my sanity slowly slipping away.

You have to hold it together, Jack , I think, taking as deep a breath as I can, attempting to center myself. My losing it will not help.

“Can you drive this thing any faster?” I call out.

“We’re going as fast as we can, Jack,” Greg answers. “We’ll be on the highway in a few minutes.”

“Dammit,” I mutter.

Time is of the essence here. I can visualize whatever it is in the night runner’s blood or saliva coursing upward through Robert’s veins. Yeah, we did a greater good rescuing the soldiers and kids; but, for me, the cost may have been too high. There is nothing that is worth the loss of any of my kids. I feel hot tears of pain, frustration, and sorrow stream down my cheeks.

My tears must have dripped on Robert as he pipes up, “Dad, seriously, I’m okay.”

I don’t say a thing in reply. I just want this behemoth to hurry the fuck along. We should be in Canada by now with the time it’s taking. If we don’t reach the road soon, I’m going to explode and it’s not going to be pretty. I’m so pent up that I can literally feel my heart being squeezed.

The Stryker comes to halt after we have seemingly traveled for days. The crying of the kids has simmered to a few sobs. They are either feeling a little safer or have been smothered. My money at this point is on the latter. It’s definitely a touch on the warm side and feels like most of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air. I pay attention to these things only on the peripheral of my mind. My focus is on seeing to Robert.

“Jack, we’re parked on an overpass away from any structures. It looks clear and our elevated position gives us good visibility into the surrounding area,” Greg calls from in front.

I have to hand it to Greg. He knows I’m a little out of it and is seeing to things. I’ll have to thank him, but right now, I’m itching for some room.