shoulder still hurts where she had to fight the four-legged one but her agility and strength won out in the end. Curling up on the floor, she falls asleep and shuts her mind off from the other packs that are finding their way to their own lairs.
She wakes suddenly in the midst of a picture-filled sleep, confused for a moment as to how or why she is lying on the floor. She sits up quickly, the thoughts and memories of the previous evening gone; unable to recall the last few days at all other than to know that there had been a last few days. Oh My God! Where are my kids? She thinks scrambling out of the ink black room, knocking her shoulder against the wall and wondering where and how she hurt it. Checking the upstairs bedroom and finding their beds empty, she flies down the stairs in a panic calling out their names, her voice echoing throughout the house.
Barely noticing the carpet beneath her bare feet, she runs down the central hallway continuing to call out their names, hoping for an answering shout. The house remains silent except for her calls reverberating off of the pale, yellow walls and the soft pad of her feet on the floor, filling the space between shouts. She runs to the basement and, throwing open the door, she shouts into the dark area beneath the house; the light from outside sending a single streamer of light across the room and onto the concrete floor. No answer returns.
Closing the basement door, she turns toward the front door and notices the broken front window. What happened there? She thinks with an increased panic feeling. Did someone break in and take her kids? She reaches out for the front door handle, feeling hesitant about opening it and confused as to why. The feeling of panic overrides the why and her fingers close around the knob.
A veil closes over her mind like a mist seeping inland from the sea. The panic feeling is instantly erased and the picture images return. Those images convey confusion as to why she is away from her sleeping place. Her skin begins to tingle from the radiated light leaking in from the window. The panic feeling from before, although forgotten, is replaced by another seeing the light and feeling her skin itch and prickle. She has the feeling she was about to go outside into the pain of the daylight and cannot figure out why. She dashes across the partially lit room and up the stairs. Finding her dark room once again, she curls up on the floor and falls asleep.
* * * * * *
I turn back to the open doors of the armory with the silence settling around us. The doors open into a black hole. The light from outside spills a few yards inside but illuminates only a concrete floor leading into the interior of the mounded-over armory. I must admit there is a hunger of sorts inside me thinking about all of the neat toys that lie within; items that will hopefully give us an edge over the physical advantages the night runners possess. There is no question that we will have to penetrate the domain of the night runners for our short-term supplies so we will have to go in with anything and everything that will give us the best chance at surviving any and all encounters.
“Well, we can do this with goggles or flashlights. What do you think?” I ask Watkins.
“Really, I don’t think it makes a difference here but think maybe we should sweep the place with the goggles first just to be sure,” he answers.
“I agree,” I say. “We only have six plus the helmets. I’ll go in with Red Team. Have Alpha ready with flashlights by the door but keep an eye on the surrounding area. If it’s all clear, we’ll go in together with the flashlights and see what we have here. Have one member back at the truck on the radio.”
“Grab your helmet. You’re going in with us,” I tell Robert.
I will use one of the goggles as I can’t fit the ear piece from the
She wakes suddenly in the midst of a picture-filled sleep, confused for a moment as to how or why she is lying on the floor. She sits up quickly, the thoughts and memories of the previous evening gone; unable to recall the last few days at all other than to know that there had been a last few days. Oh My God! Where are my kids? She thinks scrambling out of the ink black room, knocking her shoulder against the wall and wondering where and how she hurt it. Checking the upstairs bedroom and finding their beds empty, she flies down the stairs in a panic calling out their names, her voice echoing throughout the house.
Barely noticing the carpet beneath her bare feet, she runs down the central hallway continuing to call out their names, hoping for an answering shout. The house remains silent except for her calls reverberating off of the pale, yellow walls and the soft pad of her feet on the floor, filling the space between shouts. She runs to the basement and, throwing open the door, she shouts into the dark area beneath the house; the light from outside sending a single streamer of light across the room and onto the concrete floor. No answer returns.
Closing the basement door, she turns toward the front door and notices the broken front window. What happened there? She thinks with an increased panic feeling. Did someone break in and take her kids? She reaches out for the front door handle, feeling hesitant about opening it and confused as to why. The feeling of panic overrides the why and her fingers close around the knob.
A veil closes over her mind like a mist seeping inland from the sea. The panic feeling is instantly erased and the picture images return. Those images convey confusion as to why she is away from her sleeping place. Her skin begins to tingle from the radiated light leaking in from the window. The panic feeling from before, although forgotten, is replaced by another seeing the light and feeling her skin itch and prickle. She has the feeling she was about to go outside into the pain of the daylight and cannot figure out why. She dashes across the partially lit room and up the stairs. Finding her dark room once again, she curls up on the floor and falls asleep.
* * * * * *
I turn back to the open doors of the armory with the silence settling around us. The doors open into a black hole. The light from outside spills a few yards inside but illuminates only a concrete floor leading into the interior of the mounded-over armory. I must admit there is a hunger of sorts inside me thinking about all of the neat toys that lie within; items that will hopefully give us an edge over the physical advantages the night runners possess. There is no question that we will have to penetrate the domain of the night runners for our short-term supplies so we will have to go in with anything and everything that will give us the best chance at surviving any and all encounters.
“Well, we can do this with goggles or flashlights. What do you think?” I ask Watkins.
“Really, I don’t think it makes a difference here but think maybe we should sweep the place with the goggles first just to be sure,” he answers.
“I agree,” I say. “We only have six plus the helmets. I’ll go in with Red Team. Have Alpha ready with flashlights by the door but keep an eye on the surrounding area. If it’s all clear, we’ll go in together with the flashlights and see what we have here. Have one member back at the truck on the radio.”
“Grab your helmet. You’re going in with us,” I tell Robert.
I will use one of the goggles as I can’t fit the ear piece from the
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