John O'Brien - Taken

After what seems like hours, I reach the first of the trees and sit on my heels behind a towering fir, putting it between me and the roving spotlights. From here, I am able to see further into the campus. The tennis courts to my left and the outer wall of the swimming pool, attached to the gym to my right, mark the boundaries of the school proper. The first of the single story classroom buildings is across a paved road ahead. I see the main office building at an angle across from the gym past the same road. A faint light glows through the windows of the office building. That’s a good thing as, with a light on, they won’t be able to see outside very well. I ponder my next move; to head into the classroom buildings or head into the gym.

“This is Jack, I’m in,” I whisper pressing the push-to-talk button.

“Wow! Really? I had the area glassed the entire time and didn’t see you,” Greg calls back after a pause.

“I used magic,” I whisper back.

“Everything looks normal from here,” he says.

“Okay. I think I’ll check out the gym first,” I say.

“Roger.”

My head is pounding as I leave my little sanctuary and sidle over to the pool wall. It’s lost in the shadows of the night but shows up clearly in my vision. A large green dumpster lies halfway along the wall and I crouch where the corner meets the wall. Looking around, I see the spotlights panning the perimeter a distance away. Nothing else moves. I take that back. A small shape flitters in the air across my vision. I see another shape move swiftly through the night, banking and disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Bats are out , I think. Here I sit in midst of an armed compound, keyed up on adrenaline, and there they are flying about as if this night is not any different than the others. Everything is a matter of perspective I guess , I think refocusing.

I hear a shuffling of feet. I’m surprised I can hear them over the pounding in my head and I notice the scratch on my neck burns a little more than usual. I shrink further against the corner making sure not to put too much pressure against the dumpster. The last thing I want is to press too hard and cause it to move. Not like I’m the man of steel but the thought forms anyway. I hear the shuffling draw closer but don’t see anything appear at the corner. Odd , I think. I should see something as the sound seems to be coming from just around the corner. I fold quickly to the opposite side of the dumpster and become just another dark space in the corner.

A minute passes. I take out my signal mirror, move forward, and hold it toward the bottom of the large green dumpster. A light forms at the corner of the building, swaying back and forth slightly; common to a flashlight being held by someone walking. Great. We sure missed any roving patrols . I’m not sure this area was visible from our position but we should have spotted lights moving about. Perhaps it’s not a regular patrol. Maybe the tower did report something odd when the light stopped behind me and someone is checking it out.

The light pans across the trees I was in a few moments ago and then sweeps in my direction. I pull the mirror back in order not to cast a reflection and move back to the corner. Stowing the mirror, I grip my M-4; keeping it closer in order not to create a larger profile but ready to use. The light casts its beam on the dumpster; illuminating the ground directly in front of me, creating a shadow of the dumpster that envelops me. I slowly reach down and quietly loosen the knife wrapped around my ankle. This is the part of my winging it, the aspect Lynn so fondly referred to, that I’m not a big fan of; the waiting for a situation to develop.

The light begins to swing. Whoever is holding it is on the move again. It’s not aimed directly at the dumpster anymore but the round spot is on the ground directly in front of me. It does move forward with each slight sway of the light. I’m not overly worried about whoever is holding the light, unless there is more than one, but more of what will happen afterward if I have to take them out. Will they make a lot of noise, which I can minimize to an extent if I don’t have to fire, or will the flashlight beam bounce and catch the attention of the tower guards? Crazier things have happened. This is one time I wish I had three arms and hands. But I’m stuck with the two I came with. One will be guiding the knife and the other to prevent a scream the “guiding” will most likely produce. I would use my suppressed sidearm but I want to completely minimize sound and the flash, although limited, may catch someone’s attention.

The light continues to advance along with the faint swish of feet moving through the grass. A foot steps into my view by the outside corner of my little hideaway. This is quickly followed by another foot swinging in step and the guard comes fully into view. I keep my head lowered yet keep the guard in view through the top of my goggles. Any facial registration of surprise or head movement in my direction on his part will cause an eruption of movement on mine.

He is carrying a pistol in one hand but in a relaxed manner. He also has a bolt-action rifle slung over his shoulder. This is indicative that he isn’t expecting anything but this doesn’t make me relax any. My heart is pounding with the increase in adrenaline which isn’t doing my head any good. I don’t notice as most of my focus is directed to the ten feet in front of me. He stops.

Sliding his handgun into the holster, he reaches into an upper pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Cradling the flashlight in the crook of his arm, he pulls one out and jams it between his lips. A flare of light from a lighter follows. I’m thankful for the light he has chosen to shine in his own eyes killing any night vision he may have acquired. The cigarette flares in the view from my goggles, he gathers his semi-auto pistol, and moves on leaving a trail of cigarette smoke scent behind.

Idiot , I think. You really have no grasp or concept of night runners . If a horde truly gathers and there is no telling if or when that could happen, as they are wily, this place will be overrun in moments. The thought penetrates that I should just take care of him here and now as that kind of stupidity or carelessness shouldn’t be allowed to propagate any further. I am relieved that he moves on though. He rounds the corner and disappears from sight. I still hear the swishing of his feet moving through the grass for a short time and then all is still again. I slide my knife back firmly into the sheath.

I wonder if he is doing circuits of the gym, the entire campus, or if it is a one-shot deal. I radio Greg and advise him of the guard. Edging to the corner where the guard went, I am just in time to see him swing one of the gym entrance doors open and disappear inside. The soft tink of the door closing reaches my ears moments later. I notice a light over the top of the door casting a large spot of light around the entrance. Well, that way is out , I think slinking back to the dumpster.

Gathering my thoughts, I crouch to the opposite corner of the gym wall and peek around the corner. There is another light by the opposite entrance to the gym but the door to the pool, lying closer to my position, is concealed in shadows. That’s my way in .

I quickly move against the wall to the door and listen. The gray metal door doesn’t disclose anything that may lie inside. I crack the door thankful it’s unlocked. There’s no sound and I see the soft shimmering of water reflecting off the concrete brick walls. I open the door and slip inside coming to a crouch just inside. The lights of the large pool are on. Ribbons and streams of light from the pool bounce off the ceiling and walls reminiscent of an aurora borealis light show.