John O'Brien - Sanctuary

We pull out just ahead of the trucks and other vehicles on their way north to commence gathering pieces for our perimeter wall. We add to the radio traffic letting Frank know we are on our way. We’ll call at our destination which is only minutes away. The others will take twenty or more minutes to reach the area they are heading to. The convoy of vehicles parts at the Interstate as we continue ahead along a five lane thoroughfare. The traffic lights hang dark above as we pass through several intersections and arrive at the Safeway. The streets and parking lot are strewn with paper and other trash. It looks like the night runners partied at night and left their leavings behind.

There are a few columns of lighter smoke in the area drifting lazily into the air. Some of the fires from the day prior are still burning in places. The smell of smoke almost overcomes the ripe odor of rot that has become predominant. Hopefully we can stay ahead of the game there; taking care of the bodies before disease has a chance to become rampant. As if in answer to my thoughts, several fire trucks pass by as we pull into the parking lot in front of the store.

Exiting with the sound of the trucks diminishing into the distance, I call Frank with our arrival and examine the store front. I was hoping it would be a glass front store as a lot of these store types tend to be. The glass front would allow a lot more light inside and would most likely be free of night runners or at least help keep them somewhat at bay. No such luck here. There are two entrance doors, one to the left of the store and one to the right with several panes of glass beside them, but the rest of the store is concrete block. It will be very much like the BX back in the Azores with light extending a few feet inside by the doors but the rest of the interior an inky black.

We spray on the odor eliminator. I cradle my M-4, and stroll to the door on the left. I’m not sure which door will be closest to the canned food aisle and want to see which door to use by taking a look inside. I feel my mind tighten down with our upcoming entry into a possible night runner domain. Our past experiences with that haven’t been the most pleasant. My thoughts turn toward tactics and run through several eventualities. I contemplate our experience inside the BX. I can’t think of a better plan than to establish a perimeter inside and have a couple of team members cart the goods out behind the perimeter. The aisles will limit visibility and that will be dangerous.

I feel the tension building. It’s similar to a high tension wire strumming in a strong breeze. My senses are vibrating inside. There is the unknown and the knowledge that this will be repeated again and again until we become more self-sufficient. Approaching the doors on the left side, there is the unmistakable evidence of night runner activity. Shards of glass litter the concrete sidewalk in front of the doors. One of the side panes has been broken out. The pieces of glass are dispersed so there isn’t the telltale sign of footprints written in blood. Looking in the broken pane, shards are scattered across the white and black tiled linoleum floor. There is a very faint outline of footprints but they appear old.

That aside, the signs are unmistakable. This is like a neon sign saying night runners are here. There’s a faint whirring at the door as the cooler air inside mixes with the warmer air outside. It carries the combination of mustiness and a rotting smell on the very light breeze. The radiant light streaming through the remaining glass doors and other pane cast a rectangular path of light about twenty feet inside. A gloomy gray extends a shorter distance past before the interior is swallowed up in darkness like a vast black hole.

No sounds come from inside but I know that doesn’t mean anything. I can barely see the end caps at the head of the aisles but not down the aisles themselves. The others are gathered behind me as I look around the establishment. The interior dictates a similar entry and formation as we had at the BX in the Azores but we’ll have to have a moving perimeter anchoring against the outside wall. The store opens up some to the left and, unless we take the time to clear the entire side, and still not know if the night runners can come around from that side, that’s our best shot. We’ll have to anchor around the door as well to preserve our path out of here in case something happens.

I pull away. Dizziness takes hold and I feel a moment of disassociation. Shaking my head to clear it, I turn to Watkins and the other team members. The sight of them standing in the parking lot with the sun shining through the opaque clouds seems a touch surreal; as if they all seem a little brighter than they should. The soldiers in their black fatigues, with their tactical combat vests secured to the outside; each either cradling his or her M-4 or grabbing it next to the lower receiver and holding it downward, their eyes all focused on me and the entrance waiting for instructions and the word to go, stands very sharp in my mind. Next to me, Robert looks much in the same manner as the others; a little too bright. It seems like a moment just prior to stepping through a time machine and into an unknown world.

I give my head another brief shake and orient my mind back to the mission at hand; the steel band tightens down. I send Watkins over to the door to get oriented to the interior as well and he returns shortly. We haven’t really worked together but I’m not worried as I’ve seen him work. I squat down on the pavement off to the side of the door and have everyone gather around.

“Here’s the way I see it,” I say starting a brief and then say to Watkins, “Chime in if you see something different or have other ideas.” Watkins nods his response.

“First off, the gathering of food will not be a quiet venture but we still need to keep the noise down as much as possible. Gonzalez, McCafferty, you’ll anchor the entrance doors and be the left side of our perimeter. We’ll anchor everything to the outside wall closest to us as best we can. Henderson and Denton, you’ll be on the far right. Watkins, I want you to follow in behind Robert and me and leave a person at the end of each aisle. Save two to gather food. Robert and I will take the last two aisles directly behind Henderson and Denton. Henderson and Denton, you clear each aisle as you come to it, wait for one of Alpha or ourselves to get into position, and then move onto the next aisle. We’ll be able to cover six aisles that way. Not much, but it’s the best we can do. Any questions so far or does anyone have anything to add?” I ask.

“No, sir,” Watkins answers. I see he’s back to the “sir” thing. Seems to be mission-oriented with him. Not that I mind either way, just continuing to notice.

“Okay, once we have the aisles covered, the two you assign will head down the first aisle and gather what you can. The one guarding that aisle will precede them up the aisle and follow them back down. Gather the food there and deposit it outside and proceed to the next aisle. We’ll get what we can and hope the first six aisles have something usable. If not, then we’ll look to the other doors. If there’s an inkling of any night runners inside, we’re out. If we have to pull out, Henderson and Denton, come back to me. We’ll then pull back and gather the next in line. Always keep your sector clear until you’re pulled back to and keep alert to the radios. Questions?” I ask almost needing oxygen.

“I think we’re good to go,” Watkins says.

I rise and am struck again by the starkness of how everything looks. It’s like everything is etched in the finest of detail but a little too bright. Watkins talks to Alpha and the team members organize themselves into order of entry. We do a quick check of everyone’s radios. We’ll be using the broken pane for entry. The soft clicks of sights being turned on and carbines being charged are the only sounds in the area. We’re ready and, with the charging handles being released, the game faces come on and they focus earnestly. The curtain is about to rise.