My mind went blank. That sense of absolute, brutal calm. The moment where I knew exactly what I was going to do, even if I couldn't articulate it.
I may have met this little girl very recently, but she was one of us. A war hardened soldier that had a place in our ranks. She took a liking to us, gave us her trust and loyalty. There was nothing more that I could ask of her.
She was a soldier. And I left no comrade behind.
I exchanged a look with Ian, the look in his eyes all that I needed to see in order to know he felt the same.
"Where?" My voice was icy calm.
Lindsay looked at me cautiously, confused by the lack of my outrage. "The fourth house on the right. 67098. The one with the blue mailbox."
"Is he armed?"
Lindsay shrugged slightly, her hands turned out. "I'm not sure. He says so, but I don't know where he would have gotten a weapon."
"It could be something as simple as a kitchen knife." My voice was hard. "Where is the weapons stash?" Lindsay started to protest, but I cut her off. "Come on, Lindsay. I've seen you all with guns. Where are they? Sarah had to have stashed them somewhere."
Her eyes darted towards the office. "Guns aren't going to make the problem better." She didn't tell me, but her body language gave away the truth.
"They're in the office," I said to Ian, bursting through the doors and searching the small room.
Bingo. A locked case sat in the closet, hastily covered by an old tarp.
"What's the combination?" I ripped off the tarp, examining the lock. A typical combination. If she didn't tell me, it would be easy enough to crack.
Lindsay sighed, her voice shaky. "39-21-3."
I twisted the combination into the lock, a satisfying click as the latch released. After the lock popped open, I tossed it haphazardly onto the floor. The metal made a hard clack on the wooden floor, the only sound in the stiff tension of the room.
The case contained two handguns and a long gun, all sleek, black and military grade. Where did Sarah get these? This didn't bode well for us.
If Sarah, a random civilian in suburban North Carolina, could get access to these top grade weapons, who else could? Did the psycho holding the food center and children hostage have those too?
I sure as hell hoped not.
I checked the magazines, ensuring that all were full. Wordlessly, I extended the long gun to Ian, my shoulder still too wounded to be able to use it properly. I slid one handgun into my side holster and tucked the other into the back of my waistband, the hard metal pressing into the small of my back.
"What's the game plan?" Ian asked nervously, checking his weapon to make sure that everything appeared to be working properly. The last thing that we needed was a missing firing pin.
"Assess the situation, feel the guy out." I was no HRT, hostage rescue team, member, but I knew that going in guns blazing right off the bat would be a bad idea. We only had a vague idea of the layout of the house and had no idea where the hostages were being held. Hell, we didn't even know what kind of weapon this guy had. We were blind. "We only breach if we have to."
"And let's hope we don't," Lindsay said. "We do not need another crisis or more dead bodies on our hands."
"Damn straight," I muttered, stepping out of the house and heading towards the hot zone. "What's the status in terms of other civilians?"
Lindsay frowned, her auburn brows bent in misunderstanding. "What do you mean? Not many people know. I tried to keep it discreet."
"Have you cleared out the surrounding houses?" When Lindsay shook her head, I continued. "As much I hate to say it, this could get messy. We need to be prepared."
She pursed her lips. Not in anger at me, but just at the whole situation. This was a shitshow and she knew it. "I'll take care of it." She rushed off ahead of us, her red hair swinging in her ponytail as she ran.
Ian and I maintained a fast walking pace. Running would jar my shoulder more than necessary and I need it to be at its max for this, just in case it got ugly. I wish that we had an extra man on our side, someone trained and ready to fight.
Warner. It was Warner that I needed. He had been my rock, a fellow soldier in my combat unit that became so much more than just a war aquantce. He was my best friend, someone that I knew I could always rely on. I missed him. Not just his skills, but him. His solidarity and strength, the stuff that pushed me to keep going. To do it for him if I couldn't or wouldn't do it for myself.
Isn't that what friendship was? To give everything for them. To give them a piece of your soul. A requited relationship where there was no doubt. Just fierce love that drove you to be better. People joked about losing their better halves regarding significant others. I think it was much more fitting for a friendship.
The rain hadn't lightened much and it soaked me. Everything was soggy and gross. Thin rivulets of water trailed down my face from my hair, a steady stream of coolness against my hot skin.
We reached the house. From the outside, it was so unassuming, so mundane. A facade of the American dream. One ruined by the hidden guns and hostages, the crying children and terrible people of this world.
The more that I thought about the horrors of the world, and not just of war, the more I hated us. Human beings. What drove us to be so horrible? To savor cruelty, to manipulate, to steal, and kill, and hate. Why did we have the capacity to do such evil when we had been blessed with an ability to do such good?
Lindsay burst through a neighboring house, breathless. Her red hair had darkened a few shades due to the heavy rain, her makeup smudged underneath her eyes. "It took some convincing, especially with the rain, but they'll leave."
"Did you tell them why?" Ian asked.
She raised her hand in a so-so gestures. "Some, but not all. Just that there was a problem next door and we needed them to leave for their own safety."
"How did you make contact with him?" I turned to Lindsay, still keeping a keen eye on the house, looking for any movements or signs of trouble. "How did you find out about the hostage situation?"
She sighed, sharp and hard. "He sent out a kid with the message. There's four kids still in there."
Ian raised his eyebrows in question. I was stumped too. This did not fit normal protocol. Normally, a hostage negotiator would call first, make contact and assess the situation. In wartorn areas, that protocol was a little more convoluted. While I was never part of a tactical extraction team, I knew a few men that were.
In some of their stories, they told me that they breached blind. Those were the worst ones. They didn't know what to expect. Anything from grenades to suidcide bombers to machine guns. Vague intelligence and murky order, the bloodlust of war blurred the lines. Sometimes they were justified. Others, I had no idea how they weren't locked up in Gitmo for war crimes.
But I cannot blame them nor judge. I wasn't there. Shit gets bad over there, scary. Often, they did what they thought was right in the moment, consequences be damned. There was no time for second guessing.
I didn't have that luxury now, just as they didn't overseas. We had one shot at this. I could only do what I thought was right.
Despite his twisted ways sometimes, the Colonel was the one who taught me that. He showed me that the rules were intentionally bendy, made for us to execute our best judgement. I took my own liberty to break them completely. But it was his own damn fault for teaching me that. He can't be pissed that I used his teachings right back in his face.
I took a long deep breath. My eyes closed, my chest rising and falling with a purpose. I cleared my mind, focusing only on the task at hand. Tucked away in my mind were the fears, the wants, the dreams, the mindless stream of consciousness. All of that faded into nothingness. It was Ian and I only. And we had a goal to accomplish.
"Ready?" Ian flashed me a thumbs up as a response. "Take left and I'll flank right. Stay low and as out of sight as possible. Circle to the back and we can breach from there."
Ian saluted to me, a relaxed imitation of our formal routine. "See you on the flip side." He pulled up his long gun and started around the corner of the house. I trailed off to the right, crouching under a window sill, trying to get some semblance of a layout.
A quick peek revealed an empty living room, the couches bare and pillows untouched. No one in sight.
Hidden. Another obstacle in itself. Hiding, when done well, eliminated the need for fighting. But if found, your ability to fight was hindered by the small enclosures and low lighting. It led to unnecessary collateral damage. I prayed we wouldn't have that here.
I checked the next window, catching the glimpse of a small figure through the cracked kitchen door. At least one of the children was in the kitchen. It could be everyone, but I didn't want to make any assumptions.
The final window stared into an office, a musty desktop and a closed hardwood door. Empty. I wrestled with the window, seeing if the frame could be popped off. I dislodged the screen from the outside, but it was locked. I wasn't planning to breach via window, but this could be a viable escape route in case of a change in plans.
Ian waited at the back door for me. "No dice. All the blinds were closed. Couldn't see shit."
"I saw someone in the kitchen, a kid." I tested the door handle, unlocked. "Don't know if everyone's there, but it's a place to start."
"Systematic clear?" Ian was referring to the method in which we cleared out buildings on a breach. We checked every room to avoid an ambush.
I shook my head, twisting open the knob. "No, we don't have enough bodies for that. On my go."
I pushed open the door as Ian charged through with his rifle. Stealthy as much as we could be. We didn't want to alert him if we didn't have to. Catching him off guard would give us an advantage, however slight.
Ian and I proceeded back to back, checking the rooms on either side of us, paving the path to the kitchen. The living area by the backdoor narrowed into a hallway, a range of doors sprouting off on the right.
I held up a closed fist, a signal to stop. Ian froze, his rifle raised and I gestured to the cracked door ahead of us. Soft light spilled out into the dark hall, the light from the rainy day not contributing to its illumination.
The door opened towards us, leaving us hidden if someone exited into the hall. While it was nice to have cover, we would have to completely circle around the door to get inside, leave ourselves wholly vulnerable on a hunch. A justified, educated guess, but still an assumption nonetheless.
Now or never. A million little moments slammed into a second. A moment that felt like hours, but it was only mere milliseconds. The flash of a camera that encapsulates hundreds of actions.
Ian threw open the door and I charged in, guns blazing.
It was empty. Not a person in sight.
This was bad, really bad.
Not only did we have no idea where anyone was, he knew that we were here now.
We were lions in a hunter's den. Armed with teeth and claws, but not in our own territory. So much more to lose than to him.
A stifled giggle emanated from close by. I whirled, looking for the source of the sound.
"Is he gone?" Someone hissed. "I'm not losing this time."
The cabinets. They were hiding in the cabinets playing hide-and-seek. I pointed, Ian following my finger. We pulled open the cabinets, getting a wave of wails and laughter at being found.
"You, stay," I commanded Ian. "Protect them. I'm going after him."
Ian did a quick count. "We're missing someone." He made the connection the same time that I did.
"Alex," we said in unison.
"Get them out of here," I said. "Take them to Lindsay."
I rushed through the door, unsure where to start. Ian fled towards the backdoor, the kids pushing and shoving each other as they remained hot on his heels. After clearing the small room near the backdoor, he ushered them outside, leaving me to finish this.
I shut the kitchen door behind me, making sure to lock it. It locked from the outside, a simple twist. While it wouldn't keep them out, it would slow him down a few seconds, enough for me to catch up.
I retraced my steps, traveling back down the hall toward the back. I opened the office door, still empty. Just in case, I opened the window. It was prudent to have a contingency plan, even in a sticky situation like this one.
I cleared a half bathroom and a closet, both too small to hide both of them effectively. The kitchen door was still locked, meaning no one has entered or exited since I left. There was no way to lock the door from inside, so if it were unlocked, I'd know that someone had been there.
Only the living and dining room remained, both empty. Upstairs then.
The stairs creaked under my weight, the old hardwood bent with old water damage. My boots scuffed slightly, a soft noise that would normally be covered by the whir of an air conditioner. With the power gone, every minute sound echoed.
I reached the top of the stairs. The hallway branched in two directions. I chose left. When in doubt or lost in a maze, follow the left wall and you eventually make it to the exit. My sister told me that when I was a kid, the two of us lost in a corn maze. I didn't think that there was much truth to it, but it was comforting to think that she was on my side here, a second, calming presence. Backup.
There was one door at the end of the hall. Hushed white walls and a plastered door stood between me and the room. Between me and them. I could feel it, that tingling sensation, the stomach twist, the moment that I just knew.
A steeling breath, something to calm my racing nerves. My body braced for a fight. I hadn't fired my gun, but I checked it anyway. I just hoped I didn't have to use it.
The metal was warm in my right hand, the remnants of my body heat from holding it tightly for so long. Using my weak arm, I slowly twisted open the door.
"Take one more step and she loses her life," the man said, pressing a knife to Alex's throat. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, unmistakable relief in her eyes when she saw me. She had too much faith in me. But I could never let her down.
I trained my gun on his head. One shot and it would all be over. Could I get the shot off before he slit her throat? Did I try to talk him down? Or simply shoot in cold blood?
Life was a game of risks. A culmination of a thousand factors into one small moment. One choice. One second. One motion. One life.
Everything could change in a matter of moments. We had no control. But didn't we have it all?
"Put down the gun." He sniffled, his eyes nervously darting between me and the gun. "Do it or I cut her. I will."
His hands shook, so did his voice. He didn't want to kill her. Pure desperation drove this man, one who thought that he had no other options.
I raised it in surrender, gently placing it at my feet but still within reach. A quick motion would have it up in seconds. I knew that they were second that I might not have, but I didn't want to kill this man.
"What's your name?" I asked him.
His eyes were full of skepticism. "Andrew."
"Listen, Andrew." I looked at him sincerely, my hands still raised in surrender. "My name's Luke and the girl is Alex. Why don't you let her go and we can talk about this. Figure it out."
His arms tensed and I flinched. He was so close to cutting her. "There's nothing to figure out. It's over."
"It's not over," I said cautiously. Almost diplomatically, if I wanted to be generous. "I can help you, but you need to let Alex go."
"I can't do that," he said, absolute finality in his voice. "I can't."
"Then, I can't help you." Maybe not the right thing to say, but it was true.
His face turned eerily calm, a moment of simple understanding. "Then you won't be able to help her either."
I charged, barreling into him before he had a chance to swipe the knife. He sliced my bad shoulder with his knife, sending new waves of pain radiating through my body. I pushed Alex away.
"Go," I cried to her. "Get out of--" Andrew drove his fist into my windpipe, sucking out my breath. Alex looked back hesitantly, her eyes torn between me and the stairs, her way out.
I swept my leg under his, sending him toppling to the floor. The knife clattered out of his hand, the force of his fall too great to allow him to keep his grip. It bounced away, sliding past us into the hall. My foot slipped on something, giving Andrew a momentary reprive.
It was the gun. I turned, reaching out for it, but he pushed his body weight onto mine. He forced his elbow into my wounded shoulder, eliciting a scream. Mustering up my strength, I landed a hit to his jaw and scrambled towards the stairs.
After hopping to my feet, I slammed the door shut.
"Alex, you need to go," I commanded, pointing towards the stairs. This time she listened, one last glance back before escaping through the front door.
Andrew burst through the door, a madman. I scanned the floor but the gun was missing. The knife lay near his feet. I stared at him, a twisted standoff.
He pulled out the gun, having claimed it in my escape.
"You had your chance. Now I have mine." He raised the gun and I plowed into him. A shot echoed in the air. The plaster ceiling shook from impact. I wrestled for the gun, rolling and writhing to get leverage.
We completely flipped and I managed to get a grip on the gun, driving it down at his temple. He dodged, using his hand to deflect my strike wide. But it left him off balance on the floor. I went for another hit and he rolled. Right down the stairs.
He flipped head over heels, his neck colliding with a stair. A sickening ctrack resonated through the chaos. I didn't have to check. He was dead.
His body lay prone at the bottom of the stairs, blood gushing from his temple. Ian burst through the door, freezing at the sight of the body.
"Is he.."
I hurried down the steps and took a pulse. Nothing.
"Dead?" I nodded.
"Shit," Ian said. I had to agree. "I'm sorry, Luke. I know this wasn't how you wanted it to end."
I shrugged, wincing as I shifted my bad shoulder. "You act like I had a choice. I cannot control the actions of others."
Ian smiled sadly. "I know. But you know what I really meant."
My return smile was grim. "I know. I always know."
----
With the hostages safely rescued, we reconvened in Sarah's abandoned household. Mothers clutched their returned children tightly, thanking Ian and me sincerely, the unknown soldiers with a penchant for good.
While I didn't have a strong ulterior motive, I also didn't do it solely out of the kindness of my heart. I had an obligation to help Alex, but I never would have left those kids to fend for themselves.
Alex remained close to me, a little girl stranded without family, struggling to find her own. While dysfunctional, our lives were now a part of hers. Unless we found her family, we wouldn't be giving her up. Not unless she wanted us to.
There was no option now but to return to camp. I didn't know if this man was the same that killed Alex's grandparents, but I didn't want to risk the chance that it wasn't and stay here. Part of me didn't want to bring any of these people back to base because of it. What if I inadevjtky brought back a murderer? We already had plenty of those at base. I didn't need to deal with another one.
But could I really leave these people out here alone? They had nothing. No supplies, no weapons, no security, no nothing. They were never going to survive out here. If the infected didn't get them, the lack of resources would. Lindsay had vaguely mentioned other groups out there. I wouldn't put it beyond them to rob this community of what little that they had.
When did I become the one to bring home strays? I swear that I never did this as a child. It was always my sisters that brought home the wounded animals. Never me. I guess my childhood nature was catching up to me.
I had made my decision. It may not have been the right one, but it was a decision. Good or bad, only time would tell.
"We move out tonight," I said, drawing the attention of the people in the room. "Spread it to your friends and family. Whoever wants to come is welcome. We are going to a military base a few hours northeast of here. Get whatever you think you need and be prepared to leave on my go."
The mother and their children watched warily, but their mothers ushered them home without comment. We would have to wait to find out our numbers.
"Do you really think that it's a good decision to leave at night?" Ian asked me, shutting the door as the last pair left, Alex, Lindsay, Ian, and I remained the only people in the room.
"I don't really think that we have any other options." I threw up my hands. "We're not safe here, especially after all of this. Yeah, I'm hesitant to go back to base, but at least I know that we won't get eaten by the infected in the middle of the night."
"Mommy told me that the monsters only come out at night." Alex bit her lip. "Why would we leave when the monsters are out?"
I didn't know how to answer. Usually people would lie, claim that there was no such thing as monsters. After what I'd seen, after what Alex had seen, I couldn't lie to her. Monsters did exist. It wasn't just the infected, but all of us. Deep inside of us, a slumbering monster awaited the trigger of death or pain, the thing that took it way too far. WHat made us snap.
Monsters were real. The scariest part about them was that they didn't come out only at night. We lived amongst them. Sometimes we couldn't even distinguish them from ourselves.
"I'll protect you from the monsters," I promised her. "I'll do everything that I can to protect you."
It wasn't a lie, but not a whole truth either. She flung herself at me like a bullet, wrapping her small arms tightly around my waist. I squeezed her back, wondering how long it had been for her since she had someone to protect her, when she didn't have to fend for herself. Hopefully, she would never have to again.
----
We piled supplies into our melange of cars. A scuffed up blue truck, a sleek Mercedes sedan, a red SUV, and a few minivans of various colors.
Not everyone chose to come. Frankly, that surprised me. Maybe it was arrogant to assume that everyone needed our help, but our offer was generous. Safe.
Two families chose to stay, wanting to keep their houses and possessions. I warned them personally, extended the offer one last time, but they declined. It was the power of the invitation. If I didn't ask, I was saying no for them. But, it was all that I could do to ask. I couldn't force my will upon them. They had a choice.
Many raided the remaining supplies, picking out their favorite flavor of protein bar or grabbing the last case of their favorite soda. We piled the supplies into the cars, focusing mostly on the minivans and the truck.
Unfortunately, my truck was gone. Lost and fried somewhere. I'd have to settle for a replacement minivan instead.
In total, 14 of us decided to leave. Ian, Lindsay, Alex, Oliver, and myself, of course, among a few other families and loners looking for better options. The two families each piled into a minivan, one even plugging in a movie for their young children. The electrical grid may have been down, but it wasn't like we were hit with an EMP. Everything battery powered still worked.
The loners, a mean nickname but one chosen for ease, decided to ride together in the truck. It was an old three-seater, plenty of room in the bed for supplies. Oliver joined them on their little adventure like a third wheel. We loaded up a few cases of water and some of our bulkier supplies. I didn't know if we would need lanterns or battery powered grills at base, but who knew how much had changed since I'd been there? We needed to be prepared for anything.
My mind drifted to Elizabeth. Was she there at the base? Was Warner? Did they dare make the trip back? To risk the wrath of the Colonel? Did they even escape our attackers? I missed them. They were a part of me. A part that I loved and valued. A better part of me.
But I couldn't dwell on that, not with the much more pressing issues at hand.
I was still sick to my stomach after what happened in the house. I never meant to kill the man. He was just lost, misguided. Undoubtedly desperate. I had been all of those things once. I knew how it felt. Yet I had no sympathy for him. He tried to kill a little girl. No matter how bad things got, that was never acceptable. He took it too far. He made me take it farther.
I may not have killed him in cold blood, but I still killed him. His body lay still on the threshold of his house, no one willing to move or bury him. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. We were leaving anyway.
The supplies were secured and the sun dipped lower in the horizon by the minute. It was late afternoon by now, no later than three, but I wanted to get back sooner rather than later. I didn't want to fight my way through the darkness to return to Fort Bishop.
Out of my remaining options, the SUV seemed the most practical. We didn't need another minivan. Ian pleaded his case for the Mercedes, but it wouldn't fit all of us.
"If you want it so bad, you can drive it back to base," I told him.
He seemed to be seriously considering it. I was partially joking. We needed to stay together. But I couldn't deny that the car was gorgeous. A true beauty. Sleek black curves, sharp edges, shiny metal. What more could a guy ask for?
"Men and their cars." Lindsay scoffed. "I'll never understand."
"Human wisdom, baby. You know that you'll never know." Lindsay and I stared at Ian. "What? I took philosophy last year. I can remember my classics."
I let out a shocked laugh, but continued. "At least you understand that you'll never understand," I said. "Some people don't even give us that."
She rolled her eyes, her red hair sliding over her shoulder as she tossed it. "I don't think that I want to understand."
"All we're doing is chat-chat-chatting." He snapped his fingers each time he said chat. "These people want to leave. We need to go before they revolt."
While Ian hyperbolized the extent of the drama, the others were restless. A kid cried in the backseat and a loner honked the horn. Since Ian and I knew the way, we were leading the caravan.
Ian pulled around the SUV and slid over into the passenger seat. After rolling down the window, he stared longingly at the Mercedes sitting a few driveways down.
I slapped him on the shoulder. "Maybe one day, Ian."
"Come back?"
I laughed. "Hell, no. We can, I don't know, rob a car dealership or something."
"Cool." He pressed the unlock release and pulled open the backseat doors. I helped Alex into the back and made sure that she was all buckled in. Poor kid, all that trauma. She was so quiet and I didn't know how to help her.
Lindsay sat next to her and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder. "Come 'ere, love."
The scene hurt my heart.
I slid into the driver's seat, the keys already in the ignition. With my head popped out the window, I yelled, "follow us. Stay tight. Honk if you need us to stop." I held a thumbs up out the window. "Let me see 'em." After all of the drivers flashed an okay, I moved the ignition into drive. "Let's get the hell out of here."
I put the pedal to the metal, and we sped our way down the open road. Fort Bishop, a destination vibrant in my memory. A million memories. Some good, some bad. I didn't know what the ones I was yet to make there would be. I wasn't too optimistic.
With a slam on the accelerator, I left the sadistic suburbia in my rearview. My eyes were only on the horizon, a vision of hope but an understanding that even the sun faded into the night.