John O'Brien - Sanctuary

Henderson and Denton line up just outside the entrance with Gonzalez and McCafferty right behind. Robert and I line up behind the women and, behind us, the rest of Alpha gets ready in whatever order Watkins has assigned them.

“Go,” I whisper ahead to Henderson and he darts through the opening.

He is followed immediately by Denton slipping through. Gonzalez and McCafferty disappear within the building and I follow in, snapping my goggles down on entering. The first thing that assails me is the nauseating stench within. It’s the smell of rotting meat, milk, and vegetables. It hits like an invisible wall. I just about gag right there and then. We may have to think about gas masks for future entries as this can have a debilitating effect.

Henderson and Denton are on their knees just inside the door to the right. Gonzalez and McCafferty are aligned in the same way on the left. I tap Denton on the shoulder and point ahead. He and Henderson rise and move to the first aisle. Robert and I take the positions they vacated. Scuffling comes from behind as the rest of Alpha enters. They push up to the first aisle and, with a touch, I direct Robert out to the right. I plan to follow along with Henderson and Denton until we come to our aisles of responsibility.

“You stay close to me until it’s time to cover an aisle,” I whisper to Robert beside me.

“Okay, Dad,” he whispers back.

The store is set up like any other. Cash registers line the front of the store with a wide lane between them and the outside wall. Another wide lane separates the goods aisles from the registers.

“Small change in plan,” I whisper on the radio. “Robert and I will proceed adjacent to Henderson and Denton along the front lane until we come to our aisles.”

Clicks on the radio let me know the others have heard and understood. I glance ahead and see a small band of light from the far end doors. My adrenaline is keyed up and the darkness, showing green in our goggles, has that waiting feeling. I have a sense of night runners inside. The wretched smell of rotting goods is overwhelming any other scent inside the structure so I can’t tell if there’s that tell-tale body odor scent or not. Another item to know and it’s not to our advantage. The weight of the interior presses around us. It’s not quite as oppressive as being inside with only flashlights and complete darkness around but it still weighs heavily. It’s a feeling I know well. It’s the feeling of a building occupied and you doing your best not to be found.

Henderson and Denton clear out the first aisle and move up to the next. Robert and I rise and inch along in line with them. So far there isn’t a hint of movement or sound. The building itself feels dark and abandoned. The abandoned feeling comes from the building itself rather than a lack of occupants. There’s a tension in the air and it’s not only coming from us, although there is a fair amount of that. A scuffle of boots indicates Henderson and Denton moving up to the third aisle. I keep my head on a swivel and see the various laser aiming points move about the building from time to time. A stray beam will come over a covered aisle and streak through the interior, hitting the ceiling beams momentarily before disappearing.

The third and fourth aisles are cleared and then we’re up. Robert and I cross through an open cashier lane and join Henderson and Denton. Robert takes his place at the end of the cleared aisle and we move up. I stand in the next aisle only a few feet away. Henderson and Denton line the lane to my right. This is as far inside as we’ll get. I ponder whether to take the reserve team off that duty and use them for supplies. We’re not going to be able to clear an entire building of this size with only two teams. And by clear, I mean empty it of supplies. We’ll need these places for more than food. Light bulbs will need to be replaced; toilet paper, all types of odds and ends. Being inside, I think we may need to wait to clear buildings of this size until after we’ve built the wall and we bring all of the entire teams. I table that in the back of my mind.

This is very different from sneaking around in buildings in times past. That was a very different philosophy altogether. Here we have to keep a perimeter and back then the perimeter merely moved with us. Wherever we happened to be, that was the perimeter. I glance at Robert standing nearby as he stares intently down his aisle and above him. Good , I think watching him, he remembers the lessons from the BX.

“Okay, Watkins, we’re in place. Start gathering items from the first aisle,” I say pressing the throat mic.

“Copy that, sir,” he responds.

The sound of a cart being wheeled slowly inside seems to screech across the interior like a fingernail on a blackboard. I cringe at the noise but it can’t be helped. If we hand gather the items, then we’d take forever and I’d rather be in and out quickly if at all possible. I make another mental note to check the carts and maybe even have some oil on hand. I see the two Alpha members disappear down the first aisle. The squeaks end, start, and end again as they venture down the aisle filling the basket. They eventually make their way back and to the entrance door, repeating the process with the second, third, and fourth aisles.

The two gathering goods come to Robert and he heads down the aisle, disappearing from my view. I feel apprehensive about him being in here. I know he’s a man but he’s also my kid. I don’t suppose I’ll ever get used to this. I trust him implicitly but this is almost too much to watch. The sound of the cart being wheeled down the aisle does its start and stop as items are gathered. My heart is pounding within the confines of my chest. I want to be done and out of here. I can’t believe we’re going to have to do this so many more times. Our equipment makes it easier but the stress of being inside a building that is possibly inhabited by night runners puts me on edge.

I glance down my aisle and see a flash of movement past the opening at the end. A soft padding of feet across the floor accompanies the quick darting of a shape across the opposite aisle opening. I immediately know what it is. A night runner!

“Night runners,” I call into the radio. “Pull back.”

As if the radio call was a signal, shrieks fill the interior. Or perhaps it’s that they realize they’ve been discovered and that the game is up; perhaps planning on trapping us within but now their presence is known. The screams seem to come from everywhere at once; to the front along the back lanes, to the right from the depths of the store, to the left from the bakery and deli counters. I swear it even seems to be coming from above. A glance verifies it’s just the incredible volume rebounding off the ceiling.

Night runners pour into the aisle in front of me and I hear a multitude of footsteps pounding across the floor to my right. The soft bark of M-4’s, firing to my immediate right from Henderson and Denton, verifies night runners in that direction. Their gunfire rises momentarily above the howling. The night runners streaking my way are packed shoulder to shoulder and I fire a couple of bursts into their midst. The first two drop immediately and are pushed to the floor from the ones behind.

Henderson and Denton are at my position keeping us from being overrun from the side. Increased fire is testament that night runners are appearing in other locations as well. I fold back with Henderson and Denton to Robert’s aisle. The two gathering the items are backtracking as rapidly as they can but are also blocking the exit. Robert is on the other side of them firing quick bursts into the night runners pouring into his aisle. How in the world did they get here so quick in the numbers they did? I think with a sense of urgency. Robert is closer to them and trapped.