John O'Brien - Takedown

That’s seriously messed up and is, by far, the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.

Seconds become hours as they stand in the middle of the connecting hallways. If I’m discovered, they’ll be on me in seconds flat. I focus on my body, willing it into perfect stillness. Shortening my breaths, I concentrate on keeping them silent. I crouch behind my dubious cover, tensed and ready to spring into action. If they so much as hiccup or blink wrong, I’m unloading on full auto and getting the fuck out of here. Out of the corner of my eye, I keep a watch on each face, watching for that recognition of discovery.

It doesn’t come and the five night runners reverse their direction down the hall. As they vanish around the corner, I feel my muscles relax. I want to blow a sigh of relief but restrain myself. I give it thirty seconds and ease out from my cover. With two groups roaming the halls, and who knows how many others elsewhere, I’ll have to move quickly between them.

I steal to the corner and use my mirror to look both directions. The pack that was just here is moving away. The other one has moved to the edge of my range of vision. I verify the closer ones are looking the other direction and scoot quickly across the intersection. If I was to wait and they hung out at their previous location, there would be a greater chance that one of them would be looking in this direction when I crossed.

I make my way swiftly and quietly down the hall, passing more wheeled carts and doors. I’m definitely committed now having made my way through their first pickets. I don’t think their movements are deliberate nor do they appear to have a timed aspect to them. That makes them even more dangerous. There’s no predictability to their actions. They could be anywhere at any time. I haven’t observed them long enough to come to determine that for sure but it’s just a feeling I get. I had placed the night runners into an animalistic category which I probably shouldn’t have. They seem to have some capability to think on a higher than rudimentary level. One thing I do know, they certainly do react fucking quick.

More footsteps ahead. Damn, this place is busier and has more patrols than a state of the art command facility. Of course those didn’t have hundreds of night runners prowling around either. The paths through the dusty floors attest to the frequent use of this area. I check my six to verify that my rear is still clear. I’m worried about the time. I still have a ways to go and must get out of this area soon. In a few minutes, when the night runner comes to, it’s going to get a lot more crowded here.

I’m adjacent to a pair of swinging metal doors with small windows inset into them. I move to the side and gently push one of the doors open. Slipping quickly inside, I ease the door closed and slide the fiber camera under it. A night runner turns the corner into the hall just as I get the first picture. More follow behind until ten of them are in the corridor. They begin walking my direction. I silently withdraw the camera until it’s barely under the door and press close to the wall. I won’t be able to see out of the small windows to observe their passage but I’ll be able to see their feet.

I’m thankful for the hard floors. If this were a carpeted area, I’d never hear them approach. I’m struck by how silently they do move. There’s no chatter or loud outbursts. There’s nothing to tell they are even there except for the sound of their walking. I wonder if I would even hear that if it weren’t for my elevated hearing. Of course, anyone in the team can be quiet when they want but the night runners seem to do it naturally. I’m beginning to like them less and less — their abilities at least. Though it’s hard to dislike them more given the hate I already have for them.

As I wait for them to come level with me, I look around the room I’ve found myself in. It’s a larger exam or operating room. Equipment covers almost every inch of the room with a bed/table in the middle. A large light hangs from a swing arm from the ceiling directly over the bed. As with the initial hallway, the floor is clear of tracks. The night runners apparently don’t use rooms in this area, or this one at least. They surely must use some so I don’t automatically log all rooms as safe areas.

Looking back to the tiny screen, I see feet passing. I’m blocking any light escaping from the unit with my body but in such a manner that I can still see it. The night runners pass and I push the camera farther into the hall, first checking the way they came for any stragglers and then focusing on the pack that just passed. They don’t turn but continue across the intersection. I don’t have time to wait for them to exit the hall or return as I am now under a time crunch.

I withdraw the camera and ease the swinging door open. I poke my head out and verify that the group is still proceeding down the hall away from me. None of them are looking back in my direction. I guide the door closed and cover the remaining length of hall quickly but quietly. After checking around the corner in both directions, I glide around it to the right. I’m getting closer. The important thing is that I’m putting distance between myself and the unconscious night runner.

I pass several more patrols in the next few halls, ducking into rooms when the situation warrants. I sit in one such room waiting for a pack of seven to pass when I hear a faint shriek echo down the previously silent passageways.

Someone woke up grouchy , I think, waiting to see what the reaction of the night runners will be.

Just outside of the door, other screams follow the first and I hear feet scrambling away as the pack respond to the sound of alarm. Faint screeches join in from farther away.

“Jack…sir. Are you okay? Horace reports hearing a few faint shrieks on the upper floors,” Gonzalez asks.

“Just peachy, thanks. I think a night runner I put down for a nap just woke up cranky and its friends are racing to it full of care and concern,” I reply.

More feet pound down the hallway just outside of my door heading in the same direction as the others. Their screams make the door I’m next to vibrate with their intensity. Several more groups follow. I have two choices. I can either wait out the storm until they calm down or proceed while they are busy at the other end of the building. I imagine they will be racing up and down the halls once they can’t find anything other than a groggy night runner barricaded behind a door. This also may be my chance to make some headway while this part of the building is more or less empty.

I wait a quick minute and slide the camera under the door. The passage is clear.

“I’m moving on,” I add.

“Copy that, sir.”

Sticking my head out of the door, I don’t hear running feet coming my way. I do hear faint ones farther away in the direction from which I came, but nothing ahead. The good news is that the ones behind me aren’t growing any louder. I’m close to where I sensed the one who sent Lynn’s image but I’m still not sure of the exact location; on the upper floor in the middle of the facility makes sense, though. I begin to wonder if I shouldn’t start checking rooms in this area. Time is of the essence. Those which raced by will return, either because they are searching the halls or because it’s where they initially were. Either way, they’ll be back…and sooner rather than later.

I stalk to the next juncture and take a look around the corner. Four night runners stand outside a set of double steel fire doors.

Now, that’s odd. Why aren’t they screaming down the hall like the others? I think.

The answer is readily apparent. They stayed because something important is behind those doors. I up my estimate of their ability to think and their discipline. They are so unpredictable. In some ways, they are like a pack of feral animals without reasoning that only exist to attack– relentless and ferocious in nature. In other ways, they exhibit human tendencies and abilities in thought and action. Maybe it’s that each is diverse in their own way, individualistic. The genetic changes could have affected each of them differently. I previously just lumped them into a single category. I’ll have to change that way of thinking.