John O'Brien - Sanctuary

“I’ll be fucked if I’m going to be told what to do in my own place and will talk as loud as I want,” he says with his voice rising.

That’s a surprise to me as I didn’t know Kelly and him were living together but then again, there has been no contact with Kelly since we split up many years ago. There is an obvious Alpha male thing going on. I am getting that Brian is feeling a little insecure which could stem from a number of reasons. He may be jealous and feel the need to assert himself as Kelly and I were together at one point, or it may be from the fact that we were asked to help and he is therefore feeling he is inadequate; that his manhood is in question. I just don’t have the time or patience for his insecurities. Especially if they are endangering the rest of us. I can also tell, by the tightness of her lips and the narrowing of her eyes, that Lynn is getting fairly perturbed.

Brian starts to rise as another shriek rises in the night, closer this time. “Sit the fuck down and shut up. You’re endangering us fuck-wit,” Lynn says with a sharp whisper, finally having had enough.

Brian pauses in his movement. “What!? Are you going to shoot me?” He asks not lowering his voice one whit.

“If I have to and if that’s what it takes,” Lynn says raising her M-4 a notch.

I see, by the tightness around his eyes, that Robert is pretty upset as well. With Lynn, he raises his weapon a touch. Bri and Jessica are watching the exchange with wide eyes, although Bri has a more of a “this is interesting” expression on her face.

“Brian, please, sit down. They know what they’re doing and I trust them,” Kelly says.

Brian does indeed plant himself back on the floor but continues to glare. “How about lending one of your guns then?” He asks.

“Have you been trained?” I ask in return.

“I’ve shot a gun before,” he answers.

“But I mean trained, as in any military type of experience?” I ask.

“No.”

“Then, no. I don’t want the added risk of someone not knowing what they’re doing; maybe shooting in a moment of excitement and injuring one of us.”

“You have your kids toting around weapons and I know they weren’t in the military,” Brian states.

“They’ve had some training and I trust them,” I respond.

A scream cuts sharply into the night intruding upon our “conversation.” Footsteps thump across the ceiling from the apartment above. The sound and vibration of the footsteps are accompanied by voices, too dim to make out the actual words but it’s apparent they are from people and sound like female voices.

“Who’s that?” I ask quietly.

“I think they’re the daughters from the couple upstairs,” Kelly answers.

“Have you talked with them?” I ask further.

“No,” she replies. Another loud shriek penetrates, sounding like it’s coming from the parking lot in front. This is followed by an additional one from the same area. The voices upstairs continue.

“They better be quiet or they’re going to invite the night runners,” Lynn says.

As if her words were the catalyst, a pounding of footsteps on the concrete stairs outside, seemingly heading upstairs, vibrates the apartment. Screams dominate the night and the first slamming of bodies into the apartment door upstairs causes the people there to scream as well. This only serves to agitate the night runners more.

“Can we help them or do anything?” Jessica asks as we all look to the ceiling above. I glance to make sure the towels are securely barring any light emitting from our small bathroom enclave.

“If we’d have known someone was up there, we could have brought them down with us but there’s nothing we can do now without endangering us all,” I answer.

The assault on the upstairs door continues and then, with a crash and the sound of splintering wood, the door gives way. Loud shrieks and rapid footfalls race across the ceiling just a few feet over our heads.

“Nooooo!” We hear from above.

Cries resonate from above, filling our tiny space. A loud thump shakes the apartment and agonizing screams follow, rising above and mixing with the screeches from the night runners. I can almost make out the sound of flesh being bitten into and torn from the bodies but that is mostly coming from my imagination. The flame from the candles around us waver as if dancing in tune to the horrific scene being enacted above, making our shadows move across the walls in the same macabre beat.

The screams stop and only a muted growling and snarling reach our ears. My finger caresses the trigger guard both from nervousness, with having the night runners so close, and a sick feeling inside hearing the horrible end to the people upstairs. With this scene fresh in my mind, I think there can’t be too many other survivors. Our one percent has most likely decreased to a marginal level.

“What, in the fuck, was that?” Brian asks loudly.

You have got to be fucking kidding me! I think and look at him incredulously with a touch of fear and panic washing through me. I can’t believe he just spoke that loudly – again! Especially after what we just witnessed. He just doesn’t get it! Several loud screeches come from above and footsteps thump rapidly across the ceiling.

“You fucker!” Lynn sharply whispers and begins to stand.

“Everyone in the closet now!” I whisper on the heels of her statement.

We all rise with Lynn opening the bathroom door as I blow out the candles plunging the interior into darkness. Lynn steps out of the bathroom and stands in the hall ushering the others out of the door. I snap down my goggles and turn them on bringing on the familiar glow of night vision. The pattern of steps on the stairs outside mixes with the shuffle of our group in the hallway as we head to the back bedroom and the closet. Lynn heads back after the others pass by her. Robert, who has waited in the bathroom with me until everyone else has exited, pulls his goggles on as well and looks at me. I can’t read his expression due to the goggles.

“We’ve been through worse,” I tell him guessing at his thoughts.

“Yeah, but we don’t have an exit to retreat to this time,” he says.

“True,” I say with a sigh, “but we’ll be fine. Keep my backside clear.”

“I will, Dad,” he says and gives me a quick hug as best as he can while holding his M-4. I return the quick hug. He heads out the door and down the hall. Was that him thinking the worst is about to happen given what we heard above us just a few moments ago and wanting to get a last hug in ? I think closing the bathroom door and heading down the hall. Or was it for reassurance ?

The first hard slam against the front door sounds, startling me even though I expected it. I stop and kneel in the hall close to the bedroom door with a direct line of sight with the front door. Turning my sight to the 1x setting, I look through and set the dot on the center of the door. I’m hoping the couch holds the door long enough for the night runners to grow tired and move on. I’m also hoping they can’t get in through the kitchen window as I only have a small view there. If they do get through, they can run around and get through the bathroom which will give me a very limited amount of time to react. The same goes for being able to scale the building on the outside and get into the far bedroom. I’m taking nothing for granted as to what the night runners can and cannot do as they have surprised me more times than I care to recall. There is no way of telling how many of them are gathered but judging from the shrieks and pounding at the door, there are more than a few.

I look towards the closet but can only see the opening from this angle. I picture them all with their backs to the wall with dresses, shirts, and pants dangling about their heads.