John O'Brien - Chaos

Wow! This is getting serious , Lynn thinks heading to her corner and grabbing her laptop out of her footlocker. Finding that there is still not an internet connection and suspecting it is purposely being blocked, she reaches for her book as a chill runs up her spine accompanied by a sad and lonely feeling. Tomorrow is her day off and this was supposed to be one of the times that she and Jack could talk longer. I hope he’s okay , she thinks settling onto her lower bunk and opening her book. She reads until the lights go out at 2000 and falls asleep in her fatigues with her boots by the side of her bunk.

A groaning sound awakens her in the middle of the night. It sounds as if it is coming from the bunk next to her; her roommate’s bunk. Groggily, Lynn opens her eyes to a mostly dark barracks lit only by the exit lights at either end of the building. Accustomed to the various sounds of people sleeping in close proximity, she rolls over and closes her eyes attempting to get back to sleep. The moaning sound penetrates her sleepy mind once again. I can’t wait to get out of this place and have some privacy , she thinks, the sleepiness slowly vanishing. Not wanting to get up but remembering the loudspeaker announcement, she shucks off her blanket and sits up, rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes.

Swinging her legs over and setting her feet on the cool concrete floor, she reaches overhead grabbing her flashlight. Flicking the light on but cupped in her hand, letting only a little light shine through her fingers, she stands up and quietly walks over to where her roommate is.

“Are you okay?” She asks, letting a small ray of light illuminate her roommate’s face.

Although there’s only a small amount of light, Lynn clearly sees her roommate lying in the bunk with her blanket pulled up to her chin, her fingers gripping the blanket edges as if it might fly away. Only her face peeks out from under it. The sight of her roommate’s face sends a chill crawling, well, not crawling but racing up Lynn’s spine. Peeking up from her sweat-soaked pillow, her roommate’s eyes squint against the light; they are swollen and her face is ashen. Beads of sweat form on her forehead and run down her temples and cheeks. Drool has formed at the corner of her mouth, ready to join its compadres on the journey down her face.

“I’m fine,” her roommate half breathes and moans attempting normal speech.

“You have to go to zone 2. I’ll help you,” Lynn says reaching a hand out to her.

“I said I’m fine,” her roommate says shrinking further back into the pillow.

Lynn stands, walks back to her bunk, sits on the edge, and slips her boots on by the light of the flashlight placed next to her on the bed. Lacing up her boots and donning her fatigue top, she picks up her light and, shielding it once more, passes by her roommate’s bunk and heads to the back door.

“Where are you going?” A whisper calls out from the bunk.

“Out,” she responds and opens the back door into the night.

Her plan is to locate an MP on the way to her office, or, failing that, call from there. Not wanting to walk all of the way to the security shop or a gate, this will be the quickest way to notify security that her roommate is exhibiting flu-like symptoms. Plus, there is the fact of not wanting to be in a close proximity to someone with a reported highly contagious sickness. Stepping out into the chill of the night air and into the circle of light cast by the light over the doorway, she starts off toward her work building and is swallowed up immediately by the dark. The stars overhead cast a clear brilliance that only the desert can bring; the ground around is lit only at intervals by rings of light cast by the camp lights with the areas in between an inky black.

Strolling from one ring of lights to another, she rounds the corner of one building and starts up a central avenue lit at intervals by the pole-mounted lights. Not taking three steps along the sandy avenue, a shriek shatters the stillness, coming from far away only to be followed a second later by a second one from the same area. Coming to a stop, Lynn listens and unconsciously moves closer to the side of the avenue by a building. The chatter of rifle fire erupts from the general area of where the shrieks occurred. What the fuck is going on? Lynn thinks suddenly aware she is unarmed and wishing for her M-16. Are we under attack? Where’s the alarm?

Another shriek sounds out from across the camp followed by a much louder one close by. Damn, that sounded like it came from just up ahead , she thinks starting cautiously up the avenue again. What the hell is that? Up ahead, two figures emerge out onto the avenue a few buildings ahead and begin running in her direction, passing in and out of the circles of light. With the reminder that gunshots were fired and people may be rather trigger happy, she shrinks back out of the circle of light she was standing in. With an ear-piercing shriek, the two up ahead alter their course and race directly at her. Crap, they saw me , she thinks looking off to the sides and around her for some place to head just in case.

A building away, with the fatigue-clad figures racing toward her, another figure emerges into the area, skidding to a halt.

“Hey, you two! Where are you going?” The new figure calls out at the two running ones just ahead of him. The two figures adjust their course in mid-stride, angling now toward the newcomer. Standing in the shadows, Lynn watches the scene unfold.

The two running figures show no signs of slowing up as they quickly close their distance. “Hey, what are yo….?” He calls out but doesn’t finish as, with a combined shriek, the two plow into him, one launching into the air.

The soldier standing there only has time enough to raise his hands before he is catapulted backwards, his feet leave the ground, and he slams onto his back with the two on top. Dust billows out behind him from the impact with the ground. A struggle ensues, with more dust rising into the air around them, but it is short-lived. With a scream, a human one this time, the lone figure under the two attackers becomes still. On their knees, leaning over the stricken soldier, the two begin tearing into him with their teeth, gnashing like dogs and tearing chunks of flesh off. One raises his head shrieking into the night sky, blood painting its lower face.

Lynn’s initial reaction is to run to the soldier’s aid but it is over so quick that she never makes two steps in his direction. Another shriek sounds out of the darkness amongst the barracks close behind her. Okay, that’s enough for me , Lynn thinks and heads off across the road, using the shadows for concealment.

Settling between buildings and feeling somewhat protected in the dark, Lynn hunches down against one of the buildings. What the fuck was that and what the hell is going on here? She thinks remembering the rumors floating through her office and from her friend. That could have been me and I would have been oblivious until it was too late. More thoughts come at lightning speed, filling her mind as time progresses slowly in the physical world; who to trust and how to figure who to trust. Is this an isolated event? In seeming answer, the sounds of more shrieks and gunfire off in the distance reach her in the darkness, along with the closer sounds from the avenue in front of growling and the wet sounds of flesh being rendered and eaten.

Well, I can’t stay here, that’s for sure . She thinks rising slowly to her feet. Calling security from the phone still sounds like a good idea although for different reasons now. Stay quiet and in the dark and trust no one. Finding a weapon might not be a bad idea.