John O'Brien - Taken

A loud shriek erupts from within the woods. The spotlight swings a few feet to the left. “See, I told you I saw something,” I hear a voice say in the tower. “Base, we have company in the woods outside of tower five.”

I don’t hear the reply as I’m already on my way back to the copse of trees between the tennis courts and gym. Well, that’s not going to work , I think leaning against one of the trees. Think, Jack, think . I ponder many courses of action but find problems with each one. The best option I come up with is to find a place to wait out the night close to the fence, wait for the guards to leave the side towers during the early hours of morning, and make my way back. It will be riskier with more light but not riskier than wandering through woods loaded with night runners. Several shrieks echo in the forest as if in answer to my thoughts.

The lack of gunfire from the towers tells me the guards can’t see the night runners. Believe me guys, they’ll find a way in through your fence given time , I think looking around for a suitable place to hole up in. I see a depression in the ground close to the tennis courts and just inside the small stand of firs. I edge over. It appears to be used for drainage and is actually fairly deep. I crawl in and up to a point where a couple of bushes overhang the depression.

I look around. From my new vantage point, I should be fairly invisible from the classroom doors and hopefully away the route the guards will take from their towers. With it being in close proximity to the tennis courts and out of the way, no one should venture this way unless they have a specific reason to do so. I cradle my M-4 without silhouetting myself and prepare to wait.

“Greg, this is Jack,” I whisper into the radio.

“Yeah, Jack, Greg here,” I hear him answer.

“I’m going to be a little late,” I say.

“Anything wrong?” He asks.

“I seem to have gotten myself stuck,” I answer and give him a synopsis of my situation. I also quickly brief him on what I found and the layout of the facility just in case.

“Copy that, Jack. I’ll move the teams closer when it gets light,” he replies.

“Okay. If you see a guy dashing madly through the trees like his ass is on fire, be ready for company just behind,” I say. “Oh, and please don’t shoot at said madly running guy.”

“Not to worry, we’ll be able to spot you by the way you run,” Greg responds with a chuckle.

“Very fucking funny. Jack, out,” I reply.

“You know, it’s a very good thing they decided to end radio calls with ‘out’ instead of ‘off’,” he says chuckling.

“I only have one thing to say in regards to that and it involves the process of biting and my ass,” I respond.

“See you in the morning, Jack,” Greg says with a final laugh and signs off.

The night passes slowly. Shrieks and howls come periodically from near and far. I’m rather thankful I didn’t venture out. There’s only one interruption to my otherwise semi-peaceful evening is from the ever alert and vigilant guard making another round. Yeah, that was sarcasm. The sky to the east lightens with the coming dawn. The screams and shrieks end along with it. The coast is clear. Well, at least as far as outside of the fence.

I hear movement over by the towers as ladders are lowered. My headache has returned but not the deep pounding it was. Voices drift across the fields as guards begin to make their way back to the central compound from the various towers. I know the corner towers will remain manned but that shouldn’t be a problem. The eastern sky has the bright blue portending the sun’s appearance. I watch as the guards skirt the copse of trees and head toward the inner buildings. So far, there isn’t any other stirring from within. I raise my head and see the fields are clear of movement.

“This is Jack, I’m moving out,” I say.

“Copy that, Jack, we’re on the move as well,” Greg replies. His voice sounds as tired as I feel.

“Is anyone still overlooking the camp?” I ask.

“Henderson is with the radios and Denton is on overwatch,” he answers. “They didn’t want to but stayed anyway.”

“Good. I may need eyes on the towers soon. Out,” I say.

Lying on the ground and being up all night has taken its toll. My eyes feel gritty from the lack of sleep and I don’t even want to think about how my breath smells. I know my senses will be off so I need to take extra care. A tired mind misses aspects and that could end up being a very bad thing. I almost wish for the “pep” pills we used to take that would help out in these situations. They made it rough on the appetite and body in general but kept us alert in the field.

I look around once more and know I have to be off soon before the activity of the day starts. That won’t be far off. I rise slowly feeling every bone creak in protest. The sounds are similar to gunshots going off. At least that’s the way it feels and sounds. Shaking my head in an attempt to clear some of the cobwebs, I move slowly through the remaining trees. I skirt the tennis court keeping low. Adrenaline has found its way into my body once again but it seems to do little as I just want to lie back down and go to sleep.

At the fence, a short distance away from my ‘door,’ I lie down and creep along close to the edge. I think about just spraying another opening at my present location but the risk of discovery of a fence breach increases with each one created. I reach the opening and uncoil the wire holding the corners together. This is where the chance of discovery increases with it being so much lighter. A fence being peeled back will be easily seen from either corner tower should they look in this direction at the wrong time. The sun hasn’t crested the mountains as yet but the pre-dawn light definitely makes it easier to see.

“Denton, this is Jack,” I say lying alongside the fence.

“Go ahead, sir,” I hear him reply.

“Can you see the corner tower guards clearly?” I ask.

“That’s affirmative, sir,” Denton answers.

“Okay, tell me when they aren’t looking back along the western fence line,” I say.

“You’re good to go, sir. They’re not looking your way,” he replies.

I quickly bend the fence back and slip through. Immediately falling to my stomach, I pull the fence back and coil the wire once again. I play the same game of parting the grass and moving forward using Denton as my eyes on the towers. Slipping inside the tree line never felt so good.

“I’m out,” I say. “Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure, sir. Glad you made it,” Denton says.

I edge deeper into the line of trees between the camp and the road. Footprints show in the dirt and needles strewn across the forest floor. The night runners have been busy here. I’m guessing there was a lingering smell from my passage and I make a mental note to put on the scent eliminator earlier. I seem to be making a lot more mental notes these days. Hopefully some decide to stick around.

I arrive at the grass strip separating the trees from the road. Two heads rise from the tall grass on the other side of the road close to the highway.

“I’m in the edge of the trees across from you,” I say into the radio.

“We see you. It looks clear from here,” I hear Greg respond.

The sun crests the hills. Sunlight spreads through the trees and beams of light paint strips of brown grass in their radiance. Small wisps of steam begin to rise from where the limited sunlight strikes the stalks. I edge toward the road pulling the grass up behind to cover my tracks. Reaching the road, I sprint across. I’m so tired that it feels like I’m running in slow motion. My legs feel like I’m dragging a block of cement behind but I eventually reach the far side, leap over the ditch, and climb the small embankment. With McCafferty and Greg following, we make it into the trees. Greg covers our tracks and we head out for our little camp.