John O'Brien - Return

“I take it all was successful?” I ask as she draws near.

“Yep! Although not the mother lode, we did find a few things,” she answers. “And yours?”

“It was, well, an interesting excursion although I don’t think I would qualify it as a success. We lost two,” I respond.

“What!? What happened?” She asks startled.

As I relate our morning experience, I notice Wilson, Bannerman, and the other team leaders have joined us making it easier to tell the story once without having to either wait or share it multiple times. It is not something I really want to talk about over and over.

“So, it seems from our various engagements with the night runners that they have the ability to change their tactics on a rudimentary level, that they are more agile, faster, and stronger, and that they can communicate and coordinate with each other in some fashion. I don’t know if that communication is through their shrieks or some other means,” I say summarizing.

“I also don’t know how their senses are affected, either better or worse, but we’ll have to assume that all of them are increased until we positively know different. We do know that they have the ability to see in the dark so we have to assume they can smell and hear better as well,” I continue.

“What about the soldier who became infected?” Lynn asks.

“Well, we can’t assume immunity from the virus or whatever except for those who have had the vaccination. And, judging from the sudden transition, minutes instead of hours or days, it appears that the fluids from the night runners are more potent. We’re obviously going to have to avoid close combat when possible until we know more and protect ourselves from contamination better. That means covering any open sores and removing any clothing that becomes contaminated as soon as possible. And, not handling anything that has become contaminated,” I answer.

“Jesus! What hope can we possibly have?” Bannerman blurts out.

“As long as we’re alive, we have hope,” I say irritated both from being tired and from the pessimism.

“Anyway, we’re going to have to define better tactics because we’re going to have to occasionally enter into buildings for supplies. That means that no less than two squads will enter any building and the building cleared before initiating any retrieval. Or at least very strong defensive positions taken first. They seem to be able to come at us from any direction. I mean, the ceiling rafters was a big surprise. A quick retreat route must be defined and that initiated at the first sign of a large attack. No bottle of water or can of food is vital enough to risk losing anyone. One big clue to a place being habituated seems to be some sort of forced entry. Are there any question or ideas?” I ask after finishing my thoughts and look around at the group.

They all shake their heads in response.

“Alrighty then, let’s make sure the supplies are secured and then we need to get some rest before heading out tonight. Team leaders, brief your teams and see to them. Make sure your team’s weapons are cleaned. Bannerman, get a good inventory of our supplies and list anything that’s vital and we’re short of. One thing to start your list off with is night vision gear,” I say in conclusion.

“I have a surprise that may be able to help with that,” Lynn chimes in with a smile. “Follow me.”

“Right behind ya,” I say.

The group disburses and I follow Lynn to the rear of the aircraft and up the ramp. There, crammed and secured in every available clear space is our food, a good supply of weapons, crates, and assorted cases. Lynn leads me to a cache of black cases similar to a hardened brief case. With dramatic flair, she flings the top up.

“Voila,” she says.

There, nestled in gray rubber foam, is a set of night vision goggles. They look like generation 2 NVG’s to me but capable of being donned on a helmet clip or with a head strap. And, as luck would hold, there is said strap in the case along with it.

“You are truly a godsend,” I say marveling at our good fortune. I wasn’t planning to have these beauties until we raided the special ops armory back in Fort Lewis.

“This will truly improve our odds and capabilities. How many do we have?” I ask.

“Twelve,” Lynn answers with a smile on her face.

“That’s perfect!” I say giving her a big hug. “Oh, and transfer Bartel and Rogers to Horace to replace her losses.”

“Is there anything wrong with them?” She asks looking up with concern.

“No, not at all. Everyone performed extremely well. She’s just short on people and I have the most,” I reply. She nods and turns to help Bannerman start the inventory. The other items of interest that Lynn and her group picked up from the armory are radios and a collection of M-4’s for everyone with plenty left over as spares. These are distributed to the group.

I give my weapon some attention after making sure everyone else has checked theirs. We settle in where we can to rest before beginning the next leg of our merry adventure. I lay down on the lower cockpit bunk with Lynn at my side. My last thought before succumbing to my coma is the hope that tomorrow will bring answers and enlightenment as to exactly what we are facing; that we can find some clue at the CDC that brings us a greater measure of hope for survival in the coming days. Information that we can use that will allow us to properly prepare ourselves for the long-term.

I awake with a start. With the feeling that I have overslept and am late for something, my muddled dreams fade quickly. The late afternoon, westering sun is casting its glow through the cockpit windows, bathing the side instruments and panels in orange. The panic subsides to an extent but not the sense of urgency. We need to be off the ground soon. There is also the dawning feeling that I left us unguarded. I feel like a fool for not setting an alarm or having set a watch. Exhaustion has driven the basics from my mind. We could easily have slept on into the night and been entirely at the mercy of the night runners emerging. Completely in the open.

Lynn stirs beside me and snaps alert. She likely has the same sense; both the urgency and the fact that we were completely unguarded. I roll off the bunk and stretch my tired and sore muscles. This would be a lot easier if I were younger , I think bending backward to ease a kink from my back.

“This must never happen again. We have to keep a watch at all times,” I say looking down into her beautiful blue eyes.

“Yeah, no kidding! I can’t believe I allowed this to happen,” Lynn says sitting up.

“We allowed it. We can never relax our vigilance. But what’s done is done. Get everyone up and ready. Make sure all of our stuff is stowed and secured. I’ll get us ready up here,” I say looking at the instrument panels that have rested along with us.

I get one of those looks of ‘who the fuck are you’ which quickly fades. Our tiredness is making our tempers and therefore our communication short.

“Sorry, I should have asked ‘would you mind’,” I say as she rises.

“No worries. It’s just hard separating the relationship from the command aspect. You have a perfect right to tell me what to do with regards to the unit. Just don’t let it go to your head or I’ll flatten you,” Lynn says with a tired smile.

“I love you,” I say laughing for the first time in a while and leaning over to give her a kiss.

“I love you too, Jack,” she says after we separate.

I head down the stairs with the thought and wondering if we are just going through the motions. Is it really just a matter of time before we all come to an end? Wow! I sure can be a pessimist at times. No, if we can survive and get our sanctuary built, we’ll have a fighting chance . We just have to maintain our vigilance, be smart, and not make any more mistakes. We were lucky this time .