John O'Brien - Taken

Entering the gym, I notice our “guests” are crowded into the upper gym. I’m thankful the night runners didn’t get in and that we didn’t have to retreat and defend that high place. I didn’t realize we had brought in so many and that it would be so crowded. It would have been a slaughter as there just isn’t any room to maneuver. The main gym is empty with the exception of Red Team; complete once again.

We gather in the middle of the floor threading our way through the cots and keeping an eye and ear out for additional night runner attempts. The vanishing all at once has me worried. I’ve seen them change tactics too many times in a similar manner — all at once — to believe they would just go away. I hope that’s the case but the occasional muffled shriek from nearby tells me it’s not. They are still around but it’s anyone’s guess as to what they are up to. I have only known them to be relentless and persistent. This vanishing all at once is a new trick but if they’re willing to leave us alone, I am all too willing to let them do just that.

Coming down off the high rush of adrenaline, I suddenly feel very tired and plop down on one of the cots. The hard, wooden floor below is still polished to a sheen but scuff marks mar its once pristine surface. The others sit in a cluster on the cots around. I have two members of Echo keep a watch on the doors. I want us close together because I have no idea just where the night runners will emerge from next and want to be able to respond in force in any direction.

Sweat still drips off my forehead and temples running down my face in single streams. Some run under the bandage still at my neck and sting the scratch that just won’t completely heal. It has to a large degree but not as fast as I normally would. My headache is fading again and I wonder if I still don’t have an infection of some sort from the scratch. The quick comings and goings of it are getting quite annoying to say the least. I shrug inwardly, I’m still breathing and my kids are safe — at least for the moment.

“I have to tell you, that was a close one,” Henderson says quietly amongst the group breaking through my thoughts.

“Yeah, no kidding,” I hear McCafferty say. “They almost got in. My back is never going to be the same.”

“Yeah, that one too. I was talking about the spotlight when we were going in through the fence though,” Henderson states.

“Oh, shit yeah,” Denton chimes in. “That was fucking close. I thought they had you for sure.”

“Yeah, you had me scared spitless, sir,” Henderson adds.

“You thought you were freakin’ worried. I was laying there waiting for you to take the shot. I was like, ‘Why aren’t you shooting this guy? Shoot this fucker dammit.’ I didn’t dare move to call though,” I say. “To me, it was obvious he had us in his sights. But in hindsight, obviously not.”

“Well, we were going to. Both Denton and I had headshots lined up and were about to pull the trigger when Sergeant Connell told us to hold off and she would make the call,” Henderson replies.

“I could see their faces clearly through my scope. They were curious no doubt but they weren’t registering that they actually discovered something. Not to worry, Jack, I plan to keep you around a little longer. They didn’t have weapons trained on you and I would have made the call to fire if they made any movements in that direction,” Lynn says.

“It was a good call but I’ll need a new pair of shorts pronto,” I say as several chuckles break out. “Plus, that spot won’t need to be watered for a while.”

“That’s true. I’ll attest to that. I was in the direct line of your, um, inadvertent discharge,” Greg says with a huge grin.

“Then you should be thanking me for the bouquet of flowers I sent in your direction,” I counter. Amidst the chuckles, I catch Lynn’s eye as she nods. That nod tells me she wants to talk alone so I rise and meet her off to the side, out of hearing range from the others.

“Jack, I didn’t want to bring this up in front of the others but how in the hell did you hear that guard walking? I mean, he wasn’t even in sight,” she asks looking up with worried eyes. I notice her quick glance to the now soggy bandage at my neck. I knew this was coming but expected it later; like during one of my ‘I didn’t hear you’ moments.

“I don’t know. I heard the scrunch of footsteps and it sounded like it was just around the corner. Must have been a trick of the night air, wind, or something,” I answer.

“I didn’t hear it, ‘trick of the night air’ or not and I was nearby,” she replies.

“I honestly don’t know,” I say.

“Can you hear anything out of the ordinary now or something you can’t see?” She asks.

I think for a moment and actually try to hear something I shouldn’t be able to. Nothing. Just the murmuring from the teams and those in the upper gym. No distinct words or similar hints of superior hearing. “I hear myself wanting to walk away from this conversation and wanting this night to end,” I answer.

“Jack Walker! Stop it. I’m worried about your headaches and now this. And your wound isn’t healing right,” she says.

“How do you know about the headaches?” I ask astonished. I had mentioned having one a time or two but nothing to account for her knowledge.

“I see you scrunch your face up and rub your temples. You think no one’s watching but I’ve seen you do that frequently,” she answers.

“Hmmm... Well, I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary now. As a matter of fact, my ears are still ringing from the claymores going off and the recent noise in the gym,” I respond.

Her sparkling blue eyes, now slightly bloodshot from the smoke irritating them and from being so tired, look up into mine with that look that says she doesn’t completely believe me but also tinged with worry.

“The headaches aren’t bad and they go away quickly. It’s nothing. If anything, there may be a touch of infection left over. That’s all,” I add. The look of not believing me continues. She tilts her head and purses her lips.

“Okay, Jack,” she says with a sigh escaping, “tell me if it gets worse.”

“I will,” I reply.

“Yeah, right,” she says rising on her toes and kisses me.

We make our way back to the cots. Robert and Bri come and sit next to me. I fold my arms around them grateful they are okay. I feel the absence of the stress and worry I had about their well-being. Don’t get me wrong, there is still plenty of stress but it is over what the night runners are up to and if we are completely safe yet. I feel Bri wince as I hug her tightly. I release my hold and look down to the rulers tied to her arm. A touch of anger builds toward those who hurt my little girl. They had better hope the night runners get them because they aren’t going to like it if I find any alive , I think looking at the socks securing her make-shift splint.

Bri notices me looking at her arm. “Gonzalez made it for me,” she says.

“How does it feel?” I ask.

“I hurts a little but it’s okay,” she answers.

I take her arm gently and look at it closer. I feel her wince again but it’s more from the anticipation of pain than anything actually hurting. Her arm is slightly swollen and red at about the midpoint of her forearm. I touch it softly and feel an increase in heat around the swelling.

“Move your fingers slowly,” I ask. She opens and closes her fist. “Does that hurt?”

“Only a little but it’s better than it was,” she answers.

“Okay, it looks more like a fracture than a break. Keep the splint on and take this,” I say reaching into my pocket and pulling out a pain pill. I break it in half.