John O'Brien - Takedown

That thought is moot, however, as I intend to erase their very existence from the face of the earth. Now, how to lure or take out the four night runners at the doors without bringing the entire horde upon me? I pull back into one of the first rooms behind me.

“Gonzalez, Jack here,” I whisper into the radio.

“Gonzalez here. Go ahead, sir.”

“Have Horace shoot out some of the windows on the top floor of the north side,” I say.

“Will do, sir. Give her about two minutes to get into position.”

“That will be perfect, thanks. I’ll give three clicks when I’m ready.”

“Copy that. Three clicks,” Gonzalez replies.

I choose the north side because I don’t want the ones already on the east side to transit this area and I want the four in front of the doors to head away from me. It wouldn’t be in my best interest to have the entire contingent of night runners on the fourth floor to run through my position. That would kind of defeat the purpose of a distraction.

I check both directions to make sure it’s clear and ease back into the hall. Crouching at the corner once again, nothing has changed. I’m not very comfortable having night runners in the halls behind me but they are still making a racket some distance away. That doesn’t mean they won’t be spreading out or returning soon though.

“We’re in position,” Horace radios.

I press the mic three distinct times. Faint sounds of glass shattering and gunfire drift down the hall. Watching the night runners, I see them tense and turn abruptly toward the sound but they don’t move.

“Again if you please, Horace,” I whisper.

I hear more muffled sounds of shattering glass and firing. The shrieks behind me increase in volume as does the sound of running feet.

Move dammit , I think, trying to will the four night runners into action.

With a combined shriek, they take off running away from me. One set of the double doors slams open, startling me, and six additional night runners run out into the hall. They pause for a second, looking both directions, and then run after the four.

Screams and feet slapping on the hard floor continue to increase in volume. I glance behind me to see several night runners pass the hall an intersection away. They go by quickly, but I hear more following. Several more pass a few junctions down. It’s only a matter of time, and a short one at that, before they enter the hall I’m in. I stay in my position wanting to give them a chance to get some distance from the room. I have a gut feeling this is the one I’m looking for. If it’s not, then I’ll fold into one of the side rooms and wait for things to calm down and rethink my strategy.

When the six night runners have nearly faded from my sight, I slip silently around the corner and creep up to the doors. The double set of steel fire doors open outward with no windows, the fiber camera barely fits under it. I don’t have much time. I shield the glow as the screen comes to life. Inside, I see several long tables and chairs that give the impression of a large lunch room. A long counter lines the back wall and, standing near the middle of the room, is a single night runner looking off to the side.

I pan around and there, near the left wall, is Lynn. From this angle it’s hard to tell, but it looks like there’s another night runner directly behind her and holding her. My heart leaps at the sight of Lynn. I’ve found her and she’s alive. The problem is that I won’t be able to get a clean shot on the night runner holding her from this angle should I enter here. There’s another set of double doors behind and to the side of the night runner holding Lynn. Shrieks continue to fill the hallways.

It’ll be a tight shot on the night runner holding Lynn if I enter through the other set of doors, but the angle will be better. I withdraw the camera and swiftly head to the farther corner. The shrieks and cacophony of noise filling the halls allows me to move faster without the sound of my movement being heard. A quick peek around the corner shows more night runners streaking past an intersection just ahead.

I wait for a break and slide into the hall. I lie on the floor near the doors to minimize my silhouette to those that may flash by. If they turn down the hall, I’ll readily be seen though. I’m close but not there yet. I can’t fuck it up now by being hasty but I do need to be quick. I slide the camera under the door to verify nothing has changed. The two night runners haven’t moved. The one in the middle is tilting its head to the side as if trying either to hear something or puzzle something out. I don’t really care which as long as it isn’t calling the building full of night runners to this location.

Another pack enters the junction and pauses. Five night runners glance in all directions and begin sniffing the air. My heart freezes. I’m too close to be found out now. Fear that I have made it this far only to be discovered at the very door surges through my body. My heartbeat thumps against the cold, hard floor. My M-4 lies on the floor next to me but I don’t dare move. Any motion will be seen. Their eyes occasionally cast that eerie glow as their heads turn from side to side searching for something. The chances of them turning down the hall I’m in and consequently seeing me are high.

“Quickly, Horace, I need more gunfire into those windows,” I whisper.

I can’t hear the gunfire through the din of the night runners shrieking and running rampant, but I know Horace begins firing by the way the heads of the ones nearby turn sharply. They streak off to the side vanishing from view. I breathe a quick sigh of relief and rise, gathering the camera and my carbine. This is it, go time.

With one hand on one of the door handles and a finger caressing the trigger guard, I pull gently on the door to verify it’s unlocked. It thankfully is. With another calming breath, I swing the door wide open and step inside, raising my M-4.

The angle on the night runner holding Lynn is sufficient to get a clean shot. It turns its head toward me. The only thing that maneuver does is to allow it to see the muzzle flash that ends its life. The night runner’s head snaps back as my single round penetrates its hard skull, sending a spray of gore across the back of Lynn’s head. Blood flies from its nostrils and mouth as it falls heavily to the floor, bouncing off a table and knocking over a chair.

Lynn ducks to the floor as the flash of my shot fills the room and the grip on her is released. Faster than I could ever imagine, the night runner in the middle of the room turns, screams, and takes a lunging leap toward me. I bring my carbine around to center my dot on it. As quickly as I move, it seems to move faster; but I only have to move my barrel inches, whereas it has to move feet. My dot centers on its chest as the night runner, her greasy hair flowing behind her, prepares to launch into the air at me.

I squeeze the trigger three times, sending high speed projectiles out of my suppressor. Each finds its target and rips through flesh and bone. Some of the bullets hit bone and splinter, tearing through the soft tissue of the lungs before exploding out of the back. Splintered bone follows the path of the bullet. The night runner’s vocal scream of “Noooooo” fades to a gurgle. She falls to her knees and reaches out a hand.

“I warned you that I was coming,” I say, my barrel trained on the night runner’s head and finger hard on the trigger.

“You were meant to be with us…with me. You were mine.”

Convulsing, blood pours out of her mouth and nose in a torrent. The shine of her eyes fades and she slumps forward onto her face.

What the hell was that all about? I think.

Aside from being stunned upon hearing a night runner verbally speak, what it said confuses me. However, there are more important things to take care of at the moment. There will be time to think about it and analyze it later — at least I’m hoping there will be a later. I turn to see Lynn kneeling on the floor, her head looking left and right.