John O'Brien - Sanctuary

“Hold your breath, hon. We’ll be by it in a bit,” I tell her in a whispery voice as I try to hold mine as well.

During the drive down, Lynn and I talk about some of the things we need to do when we get back and the organization needed to do them, with Robert and Bri participating in the conversations. The bridges so far don’t present any obstacles and we pull close to the I-5 Columbia River crossing with the sun just a few fingers above the horizon. The vehicles on the road have increased to a degree as we enter Vancouver but haven’t blocked the Interstate fully. Crows hop among several of the cars looking for morsels and I don’t even want to think about what they may be finding. I see the towers of the drawbridge rise above the buildings off to the side of the freeway and the congestion increases as we draw nearer.

Robert slows as we thread our way through the line of cars. A major Portland hospital exit lies down the road a ways and it may be that this jam is from people trying to get there. I just hope the bridge isn’t completely inundated with cars. We get to within a mile of the bridge when my fears materialize and the route becomes completely blocked. My anxiety increases thinking we are so close yet not able to complete the distance. At least not at this crossing.

“Let’s backtrack our route to the other freeway and try the bridge there,” I say to Robert.

“How do we get there?” He asks.

“Just back up until we can turn around and we’ll drive to the I-205 exit. That will take us to another bridge and if that one’s blocked, then I’m out of ideas,” I answer.

Robert backs up slowly, threading his way through the snarl until we reach a point where we can turn our beast around. We make our way to the convergence of the highways and turn off the exit. The roads are much clearer along this route and we find the bridge mostly unobstructed. We pass over the long, light gray, concrete bridge spanning the wide river. The sun reflects off its surface with a bright shimmer. Sailboats dot the marinas by the shore but none plow the waterway. The once busy river, with sail boats slowly meandering along with sails unfurled, skiers enjoying a day in the sun, and jet skis creating waves, is now as empty as the roads.

The sun is tipping to the horizon, beginning to fill the late afternoon/evening sky with oranges, as we pull into Kelly’s apartment complex. I have Robert pull into the main lot outside of her apartment and park with the Humvee pointed toward the entrance just in case we need to get away quickly. Of course, if it came to that, we would most likely have a lot of trouble getting to the vehicle, but one can never be too careful.

I step out of the vehicle, my butt sore from once again sitting for multiple hours, and look around at the complex. Three-story apartments encircle the lot we are in, silent yet giving the impression that they are holding a secret. The silence gives off a feeling of peace and serenity but the dark windows staring out present an underlying, menacing feel. The sound of the Humvee doors closing reverberates off the white, wooden walls. The shadow of the building next to us stretches across the lot as the day begins to close.

“Let’s grab our gear and head in,” I say eyeing the deepening blue sky.

Toting our weapons, ammo, goggles, and water, we walk up to Kelly’s apartment door. The apartments are built on a hill so her second floor apartment door is actually level with the parking lot. It’s on the other side, toward the back, that the second floor nature of it is revealed. I knock on the door and hear the deadbolt slide. The door opens and Kelly stands framed by the door looking disheveled. Her normally kempt black hair hangs limply with strands sticking out in places. Dark circles surround her almost black eyes and show clearly on her lightly tanned skin.

“Thank goodness you’re here. I was so scared,” Kelly says opening the door wider. I hear Lynn’s heavy sigh behind me.

“We’re here. Did you put the candles in the bathroom?” I ask walking inside with Robert, Bri, and Lynn following.

“Yeah but I don’t get why there,” she answers.

“Because that’s where we’re going to hole up in. It doesn’t have direct access to the outside and therefore our light and noise will be diminished. They are scentless right?” I ask.

“Most of them,” she replies.

“Well, let’s take the scented ones out,” I say walking from the small entry foyer and into the where the kitchen is separated from the living room.

“Robert, make sure the windows and doors are closed and locked,” I tell him over my shoulder.

“They’re already locked,” I hear from the kitchen.

I turn to see Brian standing in the kitchen. He looks as disheveled as Kelly with his short, brown hair sticking up in places. His paler skin looks akin to a night runner but more on the pink side rather than gray and without the translucent nature. His tan, Docker-style slacks and long-sleeved, button up blue shirt is wrinkled and with vestiges of dirt in places.

“You can never be too careful and the more eyes on something, the better,” I say and nod at Robert to continue.

“Whatever. Do what you want but I’m telling you everything is locked,” Brian says.

I shake my head and turn to Lynn. “Let’s check the bathroom out. Bri, go with Robert,” I say.

“Okay, Dad,” Bri replies.

I watch her walk toward Robert, who is checking the living room windows overlooking the back side of the apartments, and have a very strange feeling settle inside. I am watching her nonchalantly walk across the room in her loose, black tactical uniform, with her long, blond hair flowing down the back, and casually carrying an M-4 by her side. I tell you, it’s such a strange sight to see in your fifteen-year old daughter.

The apartment itself is set up like most any other apartment. The front door opens into a small foyer which makes a ninety degree angle, opening up with to a small kitchen on the left and a living room stretching ahead to a set of oriel windows looking out to the setting sun. A hallway extends to the immediate right of the kitchen, terminating at the master bedroom with a bedroom off to the kitchen side of the hallway. An interior bathroom opens to the left about halfway down the hall. To the far right of the living room, another bedroom opens. Lynn and I walk into the central bathroom with Kelly following behind. It’s a very small bathroom with a single sink, shower, and toilet.

“It’s going to be a little cozy in here tonight,” I say removing the top of the toilet and disconnecting the flush lever.

“Yeah, you’re not kidding,” Lynn replies.

“Why are you doing that?” Kelly asks referring to my disconnecting the toilet.

“We need to keep absolutely quiet tonight so no flushing. This is to make sure someone doesn’t forget,” I answer.

“Oh,” Kelly says.

Candles of various sizes sit on the counter. I make sure that only unscented ones remain and hand any scented ones to Kelly to put back wherever she keeps them. There should be enough left to keep us lit for the night. Kelly looks quizzically at the ones I handed to her.

“The night runners, the creatures, have a terrific sense of smell and may well be able to pick out the smell of scented candles burning. We can’t afford to take the chance that they can,” I answer her look.

Robert and Bri walk by down the hallway. We follow them out and meet in the living room.

“All closed and locked,” Robert says.

I hear the front door open and in walks a tall, lithe brunette carrying several bottles of water. She stops in her tracks shocked by the presentation of several armed people standing in her living room. Jessica, Kelly’s daughter and my once step-daughter, stares at Robert and Bri standing in their dark fatigues and sporting M-4’s as if the picture doesn’t match. She hasn’t seen them in a while and I’m certain never expected them to appear before her fully armed and with looks of determination.