Sanctuary

An Angel Falls

Nicole stands in the parking lot and watches her dad, Robert, Lynn, and Bri leave the parking lot and disappear over the hill. She wanted to go with them but understands why her dad wanted her to stay. With a sigh, she turns to see soldiers begin to cart the bodies out of the outdoor store. They pile them in a back corner of the lot. There is activity at the front doors as Bannerman and other soldiers begin to install the security doors they fetched from the shop. The sun is warm on her shoulders and she fidgets in the dark fatigues, trying to become accustomed to the fit and style. Feeling a little useless at the moment, she walks over to the transport trucks with her grandmother and Michelle and helps unload supplies.

The remainder of the day passes quickly with the rest of night runner bodies being carted out and, with a liberal dose of diesel fuel, burned in the far corner of the lot. The large amount of corpses creates a vast funeral pyre. The doors get installed and tested along with steel shutters placed on the windows facing the entrance and the supplies are off-loaded into the store. With the sun dropping below the trees to the west, everyone gathers inside to eat, mostly in silence, and settles in for the evening.

“I think we’ll leave the generator going for the night so we can have our first night with lights,” Drescoll says addressing the tired group. “We’ll need to gather some of the blankets in the store and cover the doors and such so the light doesn’t show outside.”

The security doors, one on the inside and outside of each set of entryway doors, are rolled down and locked just as the last of the sun’s light vanishes and dusk sets in. The locking of the doors effectively shuts away the outside from the hopefully safe haven inside. Blankets are taped to the walls against the interior security doors to prevent any light leaking out. Nicole listens as Drescoll assigns watch schedules. Cots and sleeping bags, for everyone to sleep on, are pulled from shelves, out of boxes, and from storage areas.

Nic is setting up her cot and bag next to Michelle and her grandmother on the second floor when a clanging, crashing sound echoes throughout the interior. Nic startles and jerks her head toward the front entrance where the noise originated. Her heart pounds in her chest.

“Red Team, cover the side door. Alpha and Bravo, to the first floor and cover the entrance. All other teams, along the balcony. Green Team, on me, we’ll be in reserve,” Drescoll shouts.

A flurry of activity and noise follows Drescoll’s orders as soldiers gather their weapons and gear and make for their assigned positions; clicks of bolts being drawn back and released, vests being donned and zipped, radios tested, and shouts establishing orders from the team leaders. A semblance of order ensues and the teams take their positions as the slams against the outer security doors becomes increasingly numerous and much louder. Nicole observes the activities with interest from her position adjacent to a wall with a steel, gray door inset into it. Her head turns from the teams settling in and watches Drescoll take a position with Green Team nearby. Time passes differently and in a variety of ways for each of the survivors; some fearful, others restless, and even some annoyed at the intrusion on their evening.

Nicole feels of all of them. She is fearful that the night runners will find a way in yet confident that the soldiers around will take care of them and keep everyone safe in the event they do. She knows what they have been through in this past week or so and they have come through it okay every time. Her dad doing what he did and leading this group came as a big surprise to her. She had no idea her dad was capable of the things he did. She also feels restless not being able to do anything to help. She glances at the M-4 she grabbed that now lies across her lap, seeking assurance from it but none is given by the black plastic and metal.

Her restlessness and the fact that the night runners haven’t immediately broken in and assaulted them allows her mind to wander. She thinks over the days since the world changed, the exhilarations, fears, exhaustion, and closeness that the days have brought. How odd it is to be sitting in this particular place and time with all that has happened. It feels like a long, drawn out dream, she thinks looking around, her mind partially shutting out the noise of the night runners outside.

She has always been close to her brother, sister, and dad but the events they have been through have drawn them even closer. She feels bonded to them like no other time and feels an empty feeling inside without them around; watching Robert learn and become more self-confident and trying to impress Michelle; Bri watching everything and missing nothing even though she keeps that to herself; her dad trying to hold everything together and yet thinking he keeps making mistake after mistake. They have come through some pretty scary ordeals and have survived, she thinks observing the soldiers around her.

She feels a touch of sorrow for them with their being thrust into this situation without asking for it; that they have loved ones about which they know nothing and probably imagining the worst. Nicole wonders how they are able to get through each and every day with that kind of turmoil and stress. They must think about it but they don’t show it that she has seen. Maybe it’s the almost constant combat and busy surviving since that hasn’t allowed them to dwell on it. She turns her thoughts momentarily to her mom. A terrible loneliness and sadness fills her. She hopes that wasn’t her mom in the house and that she is alive and well somewhere, sending a prayer that they will meet up again once they become safe here. Her prayer also includes that her mom will become a part of their safe haven. The sadness and loneliness she feels is thinking of her mom out there alone and scared. A lone tear slowly trickles down her cheek and she shakes her head, clearing her thoughts.

The stars twinkle in the nighttime sky as a night runner stands in the parking lot watching other packs attack the doors of the building to his front. The smell of burning flesh rises to his nose from a glowing pile behind him. The pavement beneath his feet feels coarse and rough but not painful. It goes unnoticed as he continues to observe the shrieks and runs of the night runner packs trying to gain entry into the structure where food resides. The smell of the food faint yet distinct. The dashes of the individuals end with a dull, metallic clang that rises over the area.

He trots over to the side and sees the same activity with a door on the side of the structure. He has not joined any of the packs as yet but may have to soon. His stomach feels empty as he didn’t find any sustenance the night prior. It is becoming scarcer in this area and he knows, in his own way of thinking, that he will have to move to another area soon as this one appears to be hunted out. The sheer number of other night runners around him, trying to get to the food, is testament to that. In nights past, only a few of the closest packs would respond to the calls of food found. Now, an increasing number respond, many arriving after there is only bones left yet they gnaw on them trying to get every last scrap.

He jogs around the building away from the others looking for another way in. With him not being in a pack, he will be far down the pecking order for food if they do get in. He knows, in an animalistic way, that the only way he will eat from here tonight is if he is one of the first in. He rounds a corner and, with the continuous howls and clangs still filling the night air, he gazes upward. Once, several nights ago, he ate well by climbing on top of one of the two-legged lairs and coming through the top.

His gaze comes to a steel pipe that runs the height of the building to the roof above. Trotting over to the pipe, he gives it a good shake and is satisfied that it is strong enough to hold him. He glances around furtively hoping others haven’t noticed. If they do and realize it may be another way in, he will be quickly tossed aside and will have to search elsewhere to eat. Realizing the others are intent upon the doors, he latches onto the pipe and pulls himself up. Putting his bare feet against the cool wall, he begins to scale the wall. The pipe groans in one place but holds firm as he climbs steadily and swiftly upward.

Reaching the top of the pipe, he reaches his hand to the lip of the roof, quickly placing his other hand beside it. Scrabbling his feet against the wall, he pulls himself up over the edge to the top. He peers over the edge below him to see if any others observed his actions. Noticing he made it free and clear, he pulls his head back from the edge and looks over the flat roof. Everything shows in shades of gray. Square and rectangular items are set on the flat roof with pipes leading various places. A large, rectangular structure attracts his attention and he jogs over to it, leaping over pipes and other small projections rising from the roof.

Reaching it, he sniffs and detects the odor of food; very faint but there nonetheless. He walks around the small structure that stands only a little taller than him and locates an entry portal. He pulls on the handle knowing from previous, almost accidental experiences that the portals will sometimes open in that manner. The portal swings open in his grasp and he steps inside. The smell of food grows stronger and his belly responds, gurgling with anticipation.

The portal opens to a stairwell leading down. The door swings shut behind him, casting the enclosed space in which he finds himself in gloom. He sees well enough but it’s not as bright as being outside under the small points of light in the sky. He is eager as he will be the first to food and can get his share. That is if the others haven’t gained entry as yet. He doesn’t hear the sounds of feeding so he believes he will be the first in. It will take the others time to scale the structure if they even find it so he will be able to eat in peace.

He rushes down the stairs and comes to another portal opening. He pulls on this one but it doesn’t budge. He pushes and it opens into brightness. He shrinks back into the darkness expecting the excruciating pain that comes from his one-time experience with the bright light of the day but none comes. He is puzzled for a moment but then his eagerness and hunger drive him forward. The smell of food comes strongly and he knows that feeding is only moments away. He rushes through the door and into the light. Spying a food nearby, he shrieks and leaps into the air, diving for his first meal in two nights.

Drescoll kneels on the hard floor observing the teams in position and listening to the repeated bangs against the security doors. He is watching for any sign that the night runners are about to gain entry and analyzing whether he has put the teams in the most optimal positions to repel any invaders. The pounding outside has gone on for some time and it is a true test of the doors that they haven’t been able to get inside. He wonders just how many are out there but he imagines quite a few from the repeated and continual sounds against both entryways. He is sure they covered any light leaking out and they have been quiet so he wonders how they found them in the first place. He hears a shriek behind him and is slammed to the ground.

Nicole sits on her cot listening, along with everyone else, to the assault on the doors and their senses. She wonders how long the night runners outside will keep at it and if this will be a nightly occurrence. If that’s the case, we won’t be able to get any sleep, she thinks tiredly watching the soldiers and others around fidget restlessly.

A movement catches her eye in her peripheral and she turns to see the steel door next to her open. Her heart leaps in her chest as the floodgates of fear and adrenaline open. She feels a slight confusion as to why an inside door like this would be opening. It begins to swing closed confusing her even more. She is about to mention the door to Drescoll when her confusion ends immediately by a night runner emerging quickly from the opening and launches itself at Drescoll.

She watches as the night runner screams and hits Drescoll from behind. The impact slams him to the ground with the night runner on top.

“Noooo!” Nicole screams and rises to her feet without thinking.

Without knowing what she is doing, other than someone is in trouble, she throws herself across the intervening space between her and the night runner on Drescoll. She crashes into the side of the night runner, knocking it off Drescoll and finds herself on her back with the night runner on top of her. She swings her arms wildly and thrashes in an attempt to shake the weight off her and to prevent it from biting her. She feels a searing pain on her shoulder and lets out a scream. Her vision blurs and everything goes dark.

Drescoll hits the ground hard, instantly knowing what hit him as his mind registers the shriek just prior to impact. He hears another scream of “Noooo!” and feels the weight lifted from his back. He scrambles to his knees and sees a night runner on Nicole. She is flailing and writhing and then the creature bends over her. Nicole lets out a scream of pain and goes limp. He brings his M-4 to bear and hears a shot ring out behind him. A hole appears just above the night runner’s ear which sprays a small amount of blood outward. The night runner is thrown off to the side and comes to rest alongside Nicole.

Drescoll turns and see Jack’s mom standing over his shoulder holding a revolver with a small curl of smoke wafting out of the short barrel. He looks from the revolver up to her face which registers fear and determination combined. He turns back to Nicole and is quickly at her side. He checks to make sure the night runner is dead and then looks for pulse with Nicole. He finds one along with a chunk of flesh torn from where her shoulder meets her neck. The wound is leaking blood onto the carpeting below. He tears his vest, fatigue top, and T-shirt off as Jack’s mom kneels down by Nicole’s head. He folds his T-shirt up and presses it against the wound.

“Here, press this on here firmly,” he says to Jack’s mom whose eyes are wide with fear and worry.

“Greg, you’re in charge, we’ve got a situation up here,” Drescoll says in the radio before rummaging through his vest to pull out some antibiotics. He hears Nicole moan as he pulls them out.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Jack’s mom says in a soothing voice.

Drescoll looks up to see her holding the compress of his shirt firmly with one hand and stroking Nicole’s hair and face gently with the other. He pulls out his knife and crushes several of the tablets.

“Jordan, get a bottle of water,” Drescoll says over his shoulder.

He kneels over Nicole and eases the compress off her shoulder. Nicole’s moaning grows more frequent and stronger as he sprinkles the crushed antibiotics on her wounds. He replaces his shirt over the wound and Jack’s mom holds it firmly once again.

“She’s going to have to takes these,” he says holding several more antibiotic tablets in his hand.

“Nic, hon, wake up, dear,” Jack’s mom says soothingly in Nic’s ear.

Nicole’s eyes flutter open after the third attempt to wake her. Drescoll crushes the remaining tablets and takes the water bottle Jordan is patiently holding next to him.

“Nic, you need to take this. Do you think you can?” Jack’s mom asks.

“I think so,” Nic answers weakly. Drescoll pours the powder in her mouth and gently holds the water bottle up for her to drink.

“I’m so cold, Nic says.

“Okay, we’re going to move you over to a cot,” Drescoll says. He gently lifts Nicole and carries her to the closest cot. He lays her down and covers her with one of the sleeping bags.

“Jordan, go find some first aid supplies and gather the rest of Green’s antibiotics. And, seal that door,” he says on rising amidst the continued metallic clangs permeating the interior.

Jordan returns a short time later with the requested supplies. Drescoll tells Jack’s mom that Nicole will have to take the antibiotics every hour for the next few hours and then they’ll determine what quantity is needed.

“Don’t worry Nicole, we’ll take care of you and you’ll be okay,” he says putting his hand on Nic’s head to which she smiles.

“And, Nicole,” he adds, “thanks. You saved my life.”

We level off at 500 feet wanting to fly back at low level. It’s not a far flight back so there’s no sense in climbing high or conserving fuel. Plus, there’s an opportunity to teach some low level flying to Robert. Not that he’ll probably ever need it, but you never know and the opportunity exists to teach it so what the hell.

“It’s yours,” I say handing the aircraft off to Robert. “Just use I-5 as your reference and fly along it.”

I look back to see the incredulous looks from Kelly, Brian, and Jessica as they watch Bri handle the fuel and electrical systems and Robert fly without a hitch. Yes, we’ve come a long way in a short time. I know they’re watching two different people than they knew years ago. Robert takes the controls and makes a small turn to bring the Interstate up on his side. I am feeling a little lighter in one way having finished our little side venture but also have an underlying feeling of dread I can’t explain. Maybe it’s just nervousness with all that we have ahead of us.

The countryside slides beneath our wings as we drone northward. We pass over several small towns that dot the highway. A few columns of smoke drift upward from small fires either in the towns themselves or in the outlying areas. It doesn’t look any different than when I skirted small towns in times past with the exception that there isn’t anyone gazing skyward with our passage. The surreal ghost town feel accompanies each town we pass. The streets and parking lots, bathed in the late morning sunshine, stand empty of people. It’s so eerie looking down at a place where there should be cars moving along the streets or people going in and out of the stores but see only an emptiness. The sights make me feel a little empty inside as well. Perhaps it’s the energy of the people that used to inhabit these places that’s missing. We drone further north leaving one such small town in our wake.

We come up on Olympia with the waters of Puget Sound opening up to our left. I am eager to be back to see how the others are and begin setting up our new place; hoping that the evening went well for them and they are safe. The little boy in me however keeps glancing off to the waters sparkling under the sun; the small waves reflecting back the sunlight bouncing off their tops like glittering diamonds. The little boy in me wins out over the eagerness to be back with the group. After all, this may be the last time we get to or need to fly.

“I’ve got the aircraft,” I say.

“I can land it,” Robert shouts back obviously enjoying his flying and maybe feeling the same as me; that this could be our last time.

“I know but we’re going to take a small detour,” I shout back.

I bank the aircraft to the left and, once the waters of the harbor appear under our nose, drop the aircraft down until we’re just barely over the water. The Puget Sound shoots under our nose as I move the throttle up a little more. The memories come back of similar adventures under slightly different circumstances; mostly penetrating under radar. The thrill of flying so close to the ground, or water in this case, comes back. I always loved flying low level and I mean really low level. I remember taking jets up through the canyons of northwest Texas. Oh the fun!

We turn and follow the waterway up through the narrow passages. The tree-clad islands flash by our windows, their tops often above the horizon from us. I look over at Robert to see a big grin plastered on his face. Bri is grinning as well but I also notice she has her legs raised slightly as if to avoid scraping her feet on the water below us. Lynn has a smile on her face knowing the little kid within me is having fun. The others have wide open eyes as if they’re not enjoying this as much and instead see their imminent death.

“Okay, we’ve had our fun. We should head back. But there’s one other thing you should see and experience,” I say bringing the throttles back and slowing.

“Robert, lower the ramp,” I add once we’re below the safe operating speed for it.

“Okay,” he says with his grin getting even larger as if he’s guessed what I intend.

“Go take a look out back if you want but make sure you’re secured by the safety straps,” I shout over the roar from the engines. Robert, Bri, and Lynn unbuckle and begin heading to the back. Kelly, Brian, and Jessica all remain seated.

“You don’t want to go see?” I shout. All three shake their heads.

“Your loss,” I say in response to the negative answers.

Robert heads down the cockpit stairs eager with anticipation but with a touch of nervousness as well. The roar is louder in the cargo compartment with the ramp open. The view of the water rushing by the open ramp door causes a jolt of adrenaline. Lynn, Bri, and him find the crew chief safety straps and attach them before stepping out onto the open ramp. The water is rushing by and he feels as if he can reach a hand out and touch it; the tops of the small waves only feet below him. He looks up and the sight of the water scooting by only feet below him is dampened by the sight further behind the aircraft. The big-bladed propellers, themselves only a few feet over the water, are taking big bites out of the air and sending huge rooster tails of water into the air behind them. The sight of anything else behind them is lost by the immense amounts of water being launched skyward. He is mesmerized and feels like he could stand here forever; just watching the phenomenon unfolding. Knowing he can’t and that they need to get on with their day, he turns and walks back to the cockpit with Lynn and Bri in tow.

“That was intense,” Robert shouts settling into his seat once again.

“I know right!?” I shout in return. It’s a good feeling seeing the smiles inside the cockpit knowing we can still eke a measure of enjoyment out of our situation.

“Do you want to go in back?” Robert asks.

“No, I’m good. Seen it a few times,” I answer. Truth is, I would love to go witness it once again but any deviation from our course this low, even a slight one, would make a big splash and not in a good way. I’m just happy they could see such a sight.

The sound widens out and I push the throttles up, after closing the ramp, bringing the aircraft up in a climbing turn; the climb necessary to give us wingtip clearance for the turn to reverse our direction. We are about adjacent to McChord but I want to do a fly over Cabela’s to let everyone know we’re back. I bring the aircraft back down to our previous level and let Robert fly some of the way back with my hands hovering over the controls.

Reaching our entry point, Robert climbs out of the Puget Sound and picks up I-5 once again. The green roof of Cabela’s flashes by as we buzz the building letting the folks we left behind know we’re back. The now-empty transport vehicles and Humvees are parked in a line in the parking lot closest to the building. Several black-clad people look up as we pass overhead; shading their eyes from the glare of the sun as we zoom past. The only sign of life we’ve seen on our short journey back. The sight of them below us gives me a measure of relief knowing they’re okay. With the airfield just ahead of us, Robert goes through the checklist and sets us up for a landing. He has come a long ways with his flying and has become a competent pilot. I guess stress and extreme situations allows us to become proficient at a quickened rate.

The landing is neither his worst nor his best. It’s just a landing and we pull adjacent to our previous sanctuary, parking close by to give it some company in its retirement. Who knows if we’ll need to use this aircraft again but it is nice knowing it’s available if we do. I imagine several scenarios in the future where we could use a working 130 to find other survivors but for now, we need to see to ourselves.

The Humvee is carefully offloaded and we begin our drive back. The sun has passed its zenith as we maneuver through the dead base and out of the gate. The smiles that were prevalent a short time ago are replaced by looks of determination and seriousness as we re-enter our survival situation in earnest.

“Are we going to get Carrie now?” Kelly asks from the back.

“Yes, we’ll take a team and go look for her once we get back,” I reply.

“Why not now?” She asks with a touch of impatience. I certainly understand her eagerness and I know I would be feeling the same if it were my child.

“Because we’ll have more people to look for her and for safety,” I answer. “We’ll leave as soon as we can once we get back.” I know this isn’t the answer she wants but she remains silent for the rest of our drive.

I’m exhausted once again from a very sleepless night as we crest the hill to Cabela’s and park next to the line of vehicles. We have a number of hours before night hits once again but not enough to begin the process of building our wall of safety around us. There’s a lot of planning to do at any rate and we’ll use the remaining daylight hours to figure out the exact steps and assignments. That is after we go see about Carrie. Yet another rescue but I have the feeling that this will be a prevalent aspect for our future; finding other survivors.

Lynn steps out of the Humvee and walks over to Drescoll who is standing by the entrance as the rest of us begin to gather the supplies from the back. The lively feeling I had earlier is now replaced by an overwhelming tiredness. I’m not in an overly energetic mood so I take my time with the supplies and would much prefer to bask in the warmth radiance of the sun. I am about to head inside to gather up Red Team and go look for Carrie when I notice Lynn’s head snap in my direction. I watch them as she turns back to Drescoll saying something and walks hurriedly towards me with Drescoll right behind.

“Jack, I don’t know how to say this but….” Drescoll begins to say.

“Jack, you better hurry inside. Nic’s been bitten,” Lynn interrupts with tears forming in her eyes.

“What!!!? How the fuck…” I start saying and take off at a run for the entrance.

An overwhelming panic grips my insides. My stomach turns to knots and I feel a fist squeezing my heart. One of my kids, Nooooooo! Not my precious Nic. Please No! I scream inside as I bolt through the open doors. Robert and Bri were beside me and are right on my heels. I race through and stop suddenly not knowing where to go.

“Where?” I say in a panic turning to Drescoll who has paced us with Lynn beside him.

“Upstairs,” he replies.

I take off at a run again for the far escalator taking them two at a time. All other thoughts vanish. I desperately need to see my Nic. A wave of nausea grips my insides. I shouldn’t have left, I think reaching the top of the escalator feeling like a complete failure. I should have been here for all of my kids. I race across the linoleum with the sound of boots pounding behind me as Robert, Bri, Lynn, and Drescoll follow. The fear gripping me is mixed with a surreal sense like this can’t be happening.

Nic is lying on a cot with Mom bent over her, her hand on Nic’s head; softly stroking it. I dash to Nic’s side and go to my knees, dropping my carbine to the floor and take her hand. Her hand feels like it is on fire. Her face is flushed and her eyes have the glassy look of a fever as she turns her head towards me. Her beautiful hazel eyes gaze up into mine.

“Hi, Dad,” Nic whispers.

“Hi, hon. How are you feeling?” I say seeing her face blur through the tears forming in my eyes.

“I’m cold,” she responds whispering again as a tremor passes through her small, frail body. Her hand tightens on mine with the tremor.

I look at the bandage at her neck and shoulder. I peel back the white compress and see the bite with the bright redness of infection surrounding it. The skin past the redness has turned a gray color. My “I can and need to fix it” mode comes into play.

“Get me some antibiotics,” I say without turning.

“We’ve been giving her some every hour,” Drescoll responds behind me.

“I said get me some dammit!” I say harshly not wanting to hear anything else right now and wanting to fix my sweet, beautiful girl. The nausea and fear still grip not only my insides but my entire being as I look at the bite mark on my sweet Nic. Spirits, please, don’t take my Nic. Take me if you need someone but please don’t take her. I’ll do anything you ask if you spare her.

“How did this happen?” I ask.

“Night runner got in,” Drescoll responds.

“How did they get in?” I ask.

“Roof access door,” he answers.

“How many?”

“One.”

“One!? Only one! You’re kidding right!?”

I feel a tap at my shoulder and turn to see Lynn hand me some crushed pills. I sprinkle it liberally over her wound and replace the bandage. I take Nic’s hand back. Lynn settles in beside me with Robert at Nic’s head and Bri kneeling beside Mom taking Nic’s other hand. All have tears in their eyes with Bri’s streaming down her cheeks. Mom’s eyes are red from crying. I barely hear the soft murmurings of the others talking to Nic as I gaze into her sweet face once again. I want to do more and feel at a loss as to what. I have always been able to fix things in one capacity or another and feel a tremendous fear and sorrow build at not being able to fix this right away. Panic, fear, and a deep sadness.

“I love you, Nic,” I say with a blurred vision.

“I love you too, Dad. Don’t cry, Dad,” she whispers. “It’ll be okay. I’m glad you’re back.” That’s my Nic, always thinking of others.

“I am too, hon,” I say but am unable to say more as the sadness I feel deep inside keeps me silent. It threatens to rip my heart apart.

Another tremor takes hold of her body; stronger and lasting longer than the last. She arches upward slightly as her body tenses. Her eyes squeeze shut and then it passes. I stroke her cheek lightly feeling the heat radiate. She looks at Bri and then Robert, smiling at both of them with her sweet smile and telling them she loves them, before looking back at me.

“I’m going to miss going to the woods with you, Dad,” she says. “I’m so glad you’re my Dad.”

“Don’t’ talk like that, hon. We’ll have plenty more times together there.”

She just looks at me and smiles. “Dad?”

“Yes, hon,” I answer feeling the hot tears stream down my cheeks.

“Promise you’ll meet me there,” she says in a soft whisper and her body tenses with another tremor. Her hazel eyes look up into mine after her body relaxes and she smiles her soft smile. She gazes with clarity one last time into mine as her hand goes limp in mine and the life leaves her eyes.

Noooooo! I feel for a pulse and, feeling a light, thready one, begin resuscitation efforts. I feel my tears splash against her cheeks as I try to blow life back into her. Please no! Please, anything but this! Please don’t take my Nic from me. Please come back, sweetheart. Don’t leave me.

I hear Mom wailing in the background with Bri, Robert, and Lynn crying but this is lost on me as I try to blow my very life back into my sweet, beautiful girl. I feel a hand on my shoulder after a while but shrug it off violently and, with a deep panic, continue to breathe into Nic.

“Jack,” I hear behind me a while later.

I stop and look down at my girl. I check for a pulse and find none. I reach up and close her eyes. She looks so peaceful lying here. I stroke her cheeks not noticing that coolness has replaced the fire that was so prevalent before. Nic, please come back to me. I look at that sweet face that always had a laugh ready; already missing its sweet sound. The sweet, thoughtful and kind words for anyone that would come from those lips will speak no more. The look of love that would radiate from her beautiful eyes. I would never get to see that look again. The wonderful times we had together, full of peace and warmth and serenity. Thinking we would have an eternity to spend those moments together. I will now never again sit with Nic on our hill, basking in the peace and just enjoying being with each other. This vibrant and full-of-life girl of mine is gone. Gone. The realization of this comes to light and I feel my heart torn apart; ripping to pieces.

“Nooooo!” I scream and collapse to the floor on my knees.

“Jack, I’m so sorry,” Lynn says sobbing, wrapping her arms around me.

I feel her arms around me, or notice but from a distance as I feel completely numb to all that is around me. Numb except for extreme pain and grief. The one thought that echoes above the pain is that I have failed. All that I have done is a failure if it cost the life of one of my kids.

I cry myself out on the floor after a long while and feel a numbness seep into my being. I also feel that void being replaced by anger and frustration. Frustrated at feeling so helpless in being unable to save Nic; angry that my Nic has been taken from me; angry at myself for leaving her behind and not being here for her. The pain turns to anger; a pain and anger so deep it wants to explode. I rise, pick up my M-4, and rock the charging handle back chambering a round. Lynn, who had her arms around me the entire time, rises with me and looks at me with concern. I round on Drescoll, transferring the anger inside me to him for not keeping my daughter safe. I’m not thinking clearly except to think he should have kept my daughter safe. I entrusted that responsibility to him and he failed but know deep inside it’s my own failure. The pain has to be vented somewhere.

Drescoll sees the look in my eyes looking at him and takes a step backward. Lynn, seeing the burning in my eyes, steps between us.

“Jack, you don’t want to do this,” she says looking up at me. I merely look from her to him.

“Before you do anything, let me tell you what happened,” she says putting a hand to my chest and relates the actions of the night prior that Drescoll told her. “Jack, Nic saved his life. Don’t take what she died saving.”

Her words sink in but it doesn’t alleviate the pain. Only that it has to be released somehow. I realize she’s right and he didn’t do anything wrong but the pain and anger are still ripping apart my insides. I hand her my M-4 and trudge down the stairs and outside. I know Robert, Bri, and Mom could use some consoling as well but I am not capable of that right now and just need to be alone. The sun on my shoulders outside doesn’t convey the warmth it did upon my arrival. I feel only a crushing blackness within.

I begin walking across the parking lot with no destination in mind. My only thought is to get somewhere where I can be alone. I see Little Robert off to a side of the parking lot playing fetch with Mike. Other teams are in the lot but keep busy looking elsewhere. Word must have spread and they feel uncomfortable not knowing what to say or do; knowing anything they say or do couldn’t possibly help. The exception is Red Team; Gonzalez, McCafferty, Henderson, and Denton.

“Sir,” Gonzalez says putting a hand on my shoulder, “I know whatever I say can’t possibly help but, well, I’m sorry.” The others pat my shoulder, nod in agreement with Gonzalez’s statement, and then walk away.

She’s wrong, I think watching them walk away in the sunlit parking lot. There’s a spark of light at the concern and sympathy both they and Lynn showed. Even Drescoll. I could see it in his eyes but didn’t give him a chance to voice it. I continue across the lot, numbly picking a direction. The lot ends and the brown grass begins but my steps carry on. The dry grass crunches under my boots as I walk further away from the building as if distance can ease me.

The grief crushes me once again and I drop to my knees in the grass. The sorrow and deep loss inside flows outward in wails. It threatens to overwhelm me. With each wail, I feel a little less pressure inside until I feel empty; a burned out husk but without the feeling like I’m going to explode. Numb and empty, I return back. Robert, Bri, Mom, and I hug and cry for a time. I try to cover Nic but fumble, blinded by my tears at seeing her again. I feel another hand on my shoulder.

“We’ll take care of her, Jack,” Drescoll says.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry,” I say to his gesture of understanding and sympathy.

He shrugs, “I’m sorry too, Jack.”

I look past Drescoll to see Kelly standing in the background and am reminded that she has her own lost daughter to be taken care of.

“Drescoll, Kelly’s daughter is missing. Can you have Red Team help her?” I ask.

“Sure thing, Jack, consider it done,” he answers.

I collapse on a cot feeling overwhelmed; very tired. I plan to take Nic out in the morning to lay her to rest in our favorite place, remembering her last words as tears stream down my cheeks until I fall asleep. I sleep for the rest of the day and through the night, waking in panic at intervals, feeling a short relief thinking it has all been a horrible dream until the reality of it sets in, beginning the whole process once again.

Red Team gathers by one of the Humvees checking on their ammo and supplies after receiving word from Drescoll that they were to help one of the new arrivals find her daughter.

“That really sucks about Jack’s daughter,” Gonzalez says checking her ammo pouches and radio.

“Yeah, no kidding,” McCafferty replies verifying both of their radios are in working order.

“Think he’ll be okay?” Henderson asks.

“What do you mean?” Gonzalez asks in response.

“Well, I knew this Sergeant in Afghanistan who lost one of his kids while he was there and completely lost it. Walked his entire squad into an ambush and fell apart,” Henderson answers looking back at the large structure.

“Look guys, it’s up to us to watch out for him and make sure we support him the best way we can. He’s one of us,” Gonzalez says.

“I don’t get the feeling that Jack will fall apart like that,” Denton says on the heels of Gonzalez.

“Hey, here comes the lady we’re supposed to help. Game faces on,” Gonzalez says watching Kelly, Brian, and Jessica approach across the lot. “Hey, by the way, who’s leading us?”

“You are,” McCafferty replies.

“Nice try but no thanks,” Gonzalez says.

“Sorry, but you brought it up so you’re it by default. You two agree?” McCafferty asks Henderson and Denton who both nod their agreement. “You’re outvoted so you’re it.”

“Fuck you guys,” Gonzalez responds. Kelly and the others finally join them and introductions are made.

“Are you ready, ma’am?” Gonzalez asks.

“Yes,” Kelly answers.

“Okay, let’s load up. Henderson, you drive,” Gonzalez says.

“Uh, ma’am, I’m not really comfortable with your daughter coming along,” Gonzalez adds seeing Jessica begin to enter.

“Why not?” Kelly asks.

“Because we don’t know what we’re going to find out there,” Gonzalez answers.

“She’ll be fine, miss,” Brian says.

“You really don’t know that or what it’s like out there do you?” Gonzalez says. “I’m not comfortable with taking her and she’ll be safer here. She stays. And I’m not a “miss” as you so eloquently put it. You may call me Corporal or Gonzalez, your choice.”

“I don’t really care one way or the other. Can we just go?” Kelly states.

With everyone on board, Henderson starts the Humvee. Lynn walks across the lot and to the open window. “I want you all back here by 1900. That gives you three hours.”

“Yes, First Sergeant,” Gonzalez responds from the passenger seat.

“That’s back here, not starting back or taking off on some sight-seeing adventure.”

“Hooah, First Sergeant.”

“Okay, good luck,” Lynn says.

“How’s Jack?” McCafferty asks.

“Finally sleeping. Now off with you.”

They head off and make their way through town taking several turns with Kelly’s guidance. They motor through the quiet and empty streets but the pervasive smell of rot fills the air. The houses seem to shrink back from the streets as if knowing their usefulness to humanity has come to an end and they’re receding into the background. To the team, they seem to grow dimmer in the light of the sun as if the harboring of so much dead or night runners has changed their personality or charm; as if the dead are somehow changing the very essence of what were once called homes.

“Is this what it’s like everywhere?” Kelly asks at one point, looking at the quiet and still environment.

“Yes, ma’am. At least as far as we’ve seen,” Gonzalez answers.

“It doesn’t seem that bad,” Brian says from the back seat next to Kelly.

“Fuckin’ noob,” Henderson chuckles under his breath so only Gonzalez can hear.

Gonzalez chuckles at his comment before answering, “Wait until night or go waltz into one of those buildings and you’ll change your mind.”

“Yeah, we really didn’t know until last night,” Brian says and relates the story at the apartment as they make their way to where Kelly thinks Carrie might be.

The team members shake their heads after hearing the story, although told from Brian’s point of view, and sorry that Jack had to return to such a tragedy after going through a night like that. They pull into a neighborhood tract and up to a light blue house as directed by Kelly. They park and exit noticing the front door open on the two-story house built closely to its neighboring houses. The house is one of those tract houses that are thrown up quickly and pretty basic in its shape and nature. Curtains are drawn across the front windows facing a small porch and on the two upstairs windows as well. The open door isn’t evidence of anything in particular but the fact that it’s open leads Gonzalez to believe that it happened after the disaster or it would have been closed.

“Carrie?” Kelly’s scream beside Gonzalez startles her.

“Ma’am, please don’t do that,” she tells Kelly, not really wanting to give notice to anything that may be inside that they’re here.

There is no answer or appearance at the door of anyone responding to Kelly’s scream. The houses stare back in silence.

“Are you sure she’s here?” Gonzalez asks.

“It’s her dad’s house. I don’t know where else she’d be,” Kelly answers.

“What can you tell us about the place?”

Kelly gives a rundown of the interior with a living room opening up to the right leading to a dining room and kitchen in the rear. Stairs head up just inside the doorway leading to two bedrooms upstairs. A hallway branches off to the left past the stairs leading to two more bedrooms. A basement door exits off the kitchen to a half basement below.

“Okay folks, you’ve heard the layout. Let’s take a peek inside and we’ll formulate a plan based on what we see. Keep on your toes. Check your radios and lock and load,” Gonzalez says.

The metallic clicks of charging handles being released resonates off the walls of the houses close by. They walk up to the doorway in a staggered formation, ready for anything to emerge but cautious with the trigger fingers as Kelly’s daughter could show at the door. They know a night runner won’t come out of the front door but they also know not to assume anything. They remember the marauders back east and so exude caution.

Gonzalez peeks in the open door. The odor emanating from the interior isn’t any better or worse than the smell already emanating from the area. Stairs take off just inside the door as promised and the house opens up to the living room on the right.

“Denton, you cover those stairs. The rest of us to the right. We’ll clear the first floor first,” Gonzalez says eyeing the dark interior. “NVG’s on.”

“You got it,” Denton says. He steps inside and kneels on the first steps with his M-4 pointed to the landing above. The light from the open door stretches most of the way up the stairs so he doesn’t lower his goggles.

Small clicks sound in the still interior as the others lower their goggles. The dark house becomes a bright green as they are turned on. The stillness of the house remains even though the once dark corners are revealed. The team members feel the stillness as if it has weight to it. It settles on their shoulders and feels like it compresses inward as if trying to smother them.

“Okay everyone, remember there may be a little girl in here so don’t have itchy trigger fingers,” Gonzalez says stepping into the living room.

She sees the hall stretching away to her left with the dining room ahead and the kitchen opening past to the left. The house seems to breathe on its own as she stops to listen. She knows it’s only her own chest rising and falling with her heart pounding like a bass drum inside, but it’s the feeling the house and atmosphere gives off. Nothing comes to her ears that seem out of place. A glance down the hallway shows two open doors to the right and one open at the back of the hall.

“Henderson, cover the hall while we check out the kitchen,” Gonzalez says in whisper.

Henderson kneels, turns on his aiming light, and aims his weapon down the hall; the thin beam of light streaks down the hall and enters the room in the back. Gonzalez and McCafferty quickly enter the dining room and focus their beams in the kitchen. A closed door is against the wall to the left in the back but all else remains empty. Another door leads to the outside on the right. A few dishes are stacked in the sink but all seems to be in order. A small stream of light from outside sneaks past a slight opening in the curtains pulled across the windows over the sink.

“Henderson, move up and cover this door and kitchen,” Gonzalez says. A rustle of clothing and gear sounds as Henderson shifts position to the dining room.

“We’ll head down the hall and clear each room as we come to it. I’ll cover the hall while you check out the room,” Gonzalez whispers to McCafferty.

“Hooah,” McCafferty whispers back.

“We’re heading down the hall,” Gonzalez whispers into her throat mic. Double clicks in her ear piece signify the others heard and understand.

With Gonzalez in the lead and on the left, the two head cautiously and slowly down the hall coming to the first door to the right. McCafferty quickly peeks her head around the corner of the door. “Bathroom. All clear,” she says in whisper.

“Do you hear that?” Gonzalez asks just as quietly.

“What?” McCafferty says.

“Sounds like breathing. Ahead,” she answers nodding in the direction of the back room. “Or panting.”

“I don’t hear anything,” McCafferty replies.

“There’s something there. I can barely hear it but it’s definitely something.” McCafferty shakes her head indicating she still can’t hear anything.

“Alright, let’s move up,” Gonzalez says but keeps her thin beam of light aimed at the back room. Two more steps in the hall and the panting gets significantly louder.

“I can hear that,” McCafferty says as her beam joins the first.

For a moment, Gonzalez is unsure of what to do. Her instincts say get the hell out as they only have four of them in the house and an unknown number of night runners in front of them. Plus, Henderson and Denton are slightly spread out. They could quickly be overwhelmed in this small hall if there are a lot of them. That there are night runners is no longer in question but there is a small, nagging notion that there may be a little girl inside.

“Sounds like we have night runners in the back room,” she says quietly over the radio.

“What do you want to do?” McCafferty asks as they are both frozen in place in the narrow hall.

“I think we should get the fuck out,” Gonzalez whispers.

“I’m with you on that. What about the girl?”

“There are night runners in here. I’m not….”

That’s all Gonzalez gets out before a high-pitched shriek emits from the back room and fills the hallway. It deafens the two of them in the enclosed space and sends their heart rate and adrenals into high gear. The shriek is followed by the immediate appearance of a night runner at the bedroom door streaking for the two of them. The two women are shocked by the appearance of the creature so close, with its skin and eyes glowing in their goggles, but not to the point of inaction. The night runner runs directly into their twin beams of light. Their instincts take over. The hall is suddenly filled with the strobe-like flashing against the walls and the muted cough of rounds transiting through suppressors. The first rounds to strike in the center of its chest halt the night runner’s momentum, standing it up as if jerked upward by a puppet master. The subsequent rounds tear into a chest already spotted several times by bullets entering, launching the night runner up and backwards into the room from where it came. Gonzalez and McCafferty pause in the hall with the aftermath ringing in their ears waiting for others to arrive. Silence ensues.

“What do you think?” McCafferty says in the silence.

“I don’t know but I can’t hear shit now,” Gonzalez answers.

“Me either,” McCafferty whispers.

They pause a moment longer. Images of their past battles float through Gonzalez’ mind. Where there’s one, there’s always been more and a lot more, she thinks eyeing the back rooms waiting for more shrieks or night runners to emerge. She is torn. Her first priority is to her team but they also have a little girl to look for. She wouldn’t feel right if they were to leave and she were here. On the other hand, with night runners in the house, or at least the one, what is the chance that she’s still here?

“Gonzalez, McCafferty, you two okay?” Denton asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine. One came out of the back bedroom. We don’t see or hear any others. We’re heading into the bedrooms,” she answers shrugging at McCafferty as she has apparently made up her mind.

Gonzalez nods to McCafferty and they both proceed slowly once again down the hall. The open doors at the end are only a few feet away and they are both acutely aware of just how quickly the night runners can materialize. The tension filling the hall compresses to the point that it feels like they are walking under water. With Gonzalez covering the room the night runner emerged from, McCafferty carefully pokes her head around the doorway. Nothing stirs. She moves further into the room, weapon up and ready for any movement. Nothing. A quick sweep through the closet shows only a scattering of clothes and boxes. She returns to the hall to report all clear.

Entering the far back bedroom, they step over the bullet-ridden corpse lying on the floor inside the door. Although fully expecting to find another night runner hidden within, they don’t find anything else.

“We’re coming back to the living room,” Gonzalez announces over the radio, receives the familiar two clicks of acknowledgement, and they join Henderson in the dining room.

“We’ll check the basement. Henderson, cover the hall just in case,” Gonzalez says with Henderson nodding in reply. She relays the info to Denton.

The two cross the distance to the door quickly. With Gonzalez covering the door from the side, McCafferty reaches across the door and tests the handle. Locked. With a shrug, she glances at Gonzalez with a “what now” look. Gonzalez waves her to the side and lowers her carbine at the latch. She hesitates a moment, not wanting to shoot through the door and hit someone on the other side. She doesn’t know if the door was locked from this side or the other. The fact that the door is locked but the front door left open makes her think that someone could be on the other side. Without seeing a quick solution, she gives a mental shrug and, after warning Henderson and Denton, pulls the trigger for a short burst.

The striking of the bullets causes the door to explode with a shower of splinters by the door handle. She nods to McCafferty who reaches across and swings the door open. The beam of light from Gonzalez’ laser streaks downward. Where she was expecting a night runner – perhaps locked in – or a very scared girl, she is only met by a flight of stairs heading down. A stench, unlike the odor of rot outside and smelling like an open sewer, rushes up the stairs.

“I’ll go first. You cover over the top of me,” Gonzalez whispers to McCafferty who nods.

Stepping down the concrete stairs into the chill of the basement, she swings her M-4 from side to side as she searches areas as they come into view; the beam of light follows her searches and defines where her barrel is pointed. Cautiously, step by step, she draws closer to the basement floor with the stench being the only assault so far. Reaching the bottom, she looks to the far end of the small basement and sees a figure lying on a few blankets spread on the cold, hard floor.

“McCafferty, get down here. I think we may have found her,” she says pressing the mic button at her throat.

With McCafferty on the way down the steps, she walks over to the figure on the ground. She kneels down next to a teen girl on her back with her eyes closed. She gives the girl a slight shake to see if she awakens but the young girl remains still with her eyes closed, although she did move loosely and without any rigidity when Gonzalez shook her. She searches for a pulse and finds a weak but steady one. Feeling her chest, she feels it rise ever so slightly.

“I’ve got a girl down here with a weak pulse and shallow breathing but she’s alive,” she says over the radio.

They pick the girl up, noticing the worn, dirt-stained jeans and once white top, and carry her outside, picking up Henderson and Denton on their way. They place the girl on the thin strip of green grass serving as the front lawn.

“Carrie!” Kelly yells seeing them carry the thin figure outside and answers the question of whether they found the right girl.

“Denton, go see if there’s an IV and saline in the med kit,” Gonzalez says kneeling by the frail body.

To her, it’s obvious that Carrie has been without food and water for a while and looks like exposure victims she has seen in the past. Kelly kneels on the other side calling to Carrie, stroking her face. Denton returns and pulls out a bag of saline with an IV kit. Gonzalez was trained some time ago and knows she’s no expert at inserting an IV. She had a hard time finding a vein even back in training. She looks to the arm and notices the veins deflated through dehydration. She doesn’t feel comfortable trying to find a smaller one in the hand, and she’s definitely not going for the jugular, so she tries to insert the needle into the arm. Several attempts later, she’s rewarded with a spot of blood in the needle. Taping the needle in place and hooking up the bag, she turns the drip on high.

To the relief of everyone, Carrie emits a faint, stirring moan. She was worried they would have to transport Carrie in her weakened condition. Though there is still time before they are due back, she hadn’t wanted to risk moving her. Carrie’s eyes flutter open. Kelly sobs in relief and hugs her daughter tightly before turning to Gonzalez and giving her a big hug.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you,” she says.

“Our pleasure, ma’am,” Gonzalez says feeling a touch uncomfortable with the outpouring of emotion.

They keep Carrie on the grass for a while longer, feeding her small sips of water until Gonzalez feels comfortable enough with Carrie’s recovery. They load the girl into the rear making sure she’s comfortable and proceed back with the sound of Kelly comforting her daughter. Gonzalez rides back feeling good that they could help someone in this nightmare of danger and death in which so much has been lost.

The next morning arrives and I wake feeling just as tired as when I collapsed. The night passed with my waking many times; sometimes due to the pain and sometimes with the pounding at the doors from night runners. I am angered at their pounding interrupting my sleep and by their taking my precious gem from me. The ache is deep within my heart and I don’t want to get up. I feel like just staying on my cot with my misery for company. I know in my mind that the pain will pass but it certainly doesn’t feel like it ever will. I failed my sweet Nic and the agony of that hurts almost as much as does her loss. No parent should outlive their child. My worst nightmare has come to pass. I don’t want to rise but know that I need to lay my Nic to rest.

With an extreme effort, like lifting a truck from on top of me, I toss aside the blankets that someone put over me during the night. I sit on the side of the cot and look over to where Nic is lying to see that Drescoll or someone wrapped her in a sleeping bag. Robert and Bri are sitting on their cots with their heads hung. Mom is kneeling by Nic just staring at the bag in which she lies. I stand and walk over to Nic, lift her in my arms, and, without a word, carry her outside with Robert, Bri, and Mom following. As she is going about business in the parking lot, Lynn sees us and joins our silent march. The entire parking lot of soldiers is silent as we pass by. I gently set Nic in the back of one of the Humvees. Our doors closing sounds unnaturally loud in the stillness as we climb silently in and start down the road.

All of us have tears in our eyes, with Mom and Bri sobbing in the back, as we drive to the gate blocking the road to our special place. The walk is also conducted in silence with Robert, Bri, and myself carrying Nic’s body along the road and up through the woods. At a stump, we rid ourselves of our accoutrements and smudge ourselves before proceeding into the small valley and up the side of the hill where Nic and I spent so many hours together. The valley still holds the peaceful feeling but I am numb inside. I feel like someone else is walking through the shaded grove. I cannot believe I am about to lay my daughter, my Nic, a jewel in my life, to rest. It’s a different surreal than the world’s situation but surreal nonetheless.

We dig a deep hole on the side of the hill where we used to sit. I take my bear necklace off, and, unzipping the bag, I place it inside. Gently lowering Nic in her sleeping bag, I stand at the edge looking at her lying in the hole. I can’t bring myself to shovel dirt in. The thought of doing so makes me feel like I’d be giving up on her. I lean on the shovel with warm tears streaming down my face and feel Lynn’s arms around my shoulders. Bri hugs my waist and buries her face against me, sobbing. Mom comes over and throws her arms around the both of us with her eyes red from crying. Robert joins us and, in our shared sorrow and loss, we all hug tightly.

As if on a shared thought, we part and I scoop a small load of dirt in, lowering the shovel and gently laying the dirt on the bag, as if edging myself towards actually burying her. We all begin laying shovels in until the bag disappears from view. My vision is blurred as the last of the blue of the bag vanishes beneath the dirt and the hole is then quickly filled leaving a mound. We stand around it holding hands.

I kneel and place my hand on the freshly turned earth. “Spirits, you know Nic. She has visited you many times here. Please take care of her and guide her. Nic, you were a sweet jewel upon this earth and blessed it so much with your presence. Your laugh was like an angel singing. You were the world to me and I’ll truly miss you. I’ll miss your smile and the look in your eyes when you gazed at me. A smile that would chase all of the shadows away. I’ll miss the times we had playing, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. Goodbye my dear, sweet Nic. I love you so much! I’ll meet you here,” I say sobbing between words. My sweet Nic is truly gone, never to grace my presence by her beautiful laugh or sweet voice again.

I swear I hear her voice in my head, “I’ll be here waiting for you, Dad.”

A deep, agonizing sense of sadness and loss grips my insides. Robert, Bri, Mom, and Lynn take turns saying their goodbyes and we depart in silence. I know Robert is grieving within but it’s always been his way to not express his emotions much. Walking through the trees, with the sunlight filtering in through gaps, we gather our gear and walk slowly back to the vehicle. The drive back is conducted with a reverent quiet and we pull back into the place we have determined to be our sanctuary although I’m not sure I will ever see it that way.

I walk back into the building and plop back onto my cot feeling completely drained inside; an empty husk. I’m just a shell with no drive left. I know mentally I can’t sink into this, especially at a time like this with our survival still hanging by a thread, but I can’t seem to stop it. My thoughts are not in line with my ability or willpower. I sink down onto the cot in tune with the sinking I feel in my soul.

Lynn approaches and kneels next to me. “I know this isn’t the best time but what do we do now. What do we need to do?”

I know she is, one, concerned about the group and two, trying to shake me out of this funk I’m in; trying to redirect my thoughts into something productive. It doesn’t help.

“I don’t care, whatever you see fit,” I respond and roll over.

Days pass in a blur. I faintly recollect the hammering of night runners outside at night, people coming by, eating and drinking by rote, others within the building moving racks and such, storing gear, and Lynn talking to me at times but I don’t remember any of the conversations. I gradually come out of my funk but still can’t find the willpower to rise and become useful in any way.

Finally, I guess Lynn has had enough of my feeling sorry for myself and stands over me with her hands on her hips looking determined. “Look, Jack, I know you’re hurting and I feel horrible about what happened but you’ve got to shake out of this. We’ve got people here who are looking to you and counting on you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I say looking up at her.

“Well, these people need you to lead. We need supplies and to start building that fucking wall to protect us,” she states.

“Then do it,” I state back.

“Jack, I’ve seen to getting supplies for the interim and such but I can’t do what you do. I can do the tactical shit but not the strategic stuff like you have rattling around that empty cavern you call a mind,” she says trying her hardest to shake me of my lethargy or at least draw a smile. “Do you seriously think Nic would want you like this?”

That causes a start within. “I’m going to the roof,” I say rising.

“Fine, Jack, do what you need but come back to us. Come back to me,” she says, turns, and walks away.

I rise slowly and remove the barricade leading to the roof. Trudging up the darkened stairwell feels like I’m climbing to the top of the Empire State Building. I reach the top, bump the push bar opening the latch, and swing the door open. The bright sunlight blinds my eyes that have only seen the glare of florescent lights in the past few days. It’s like everything whited-out and then swims into focus. I trudge over and sit on one of the large pipes running across the space and gaze over to the west with the sun just beginning to lower behind the evergreens beyond the open fields.

The fresh air feels good and I feel a stirring inside trying to break through the numbness. I don’t know whether to force it back down and stay numb or to let it through and feel the excruciating pain. I miss Nic, I think and with that thought, the numbness shatters. The grief rises and explodes; the sun blurs as tears run down my cheeks. I sit alone for a while realizing that she isn’t coming back but wanting the memory of who she was alive.

The roof door swings open; Robert and Bri walk through. I watch as they both walk over with their M-4’s slung over their shoulders. I stand as they approach and we throw our arms around each other. Holding them close and tight, I look at them and realize I have been vacant when they needed me. I realize they are all I have left, them and Lynn, and I need to be here for them. I need to be here and see them safe; to make sure they are capable of existing in this new world. It’s at this moment that clarity returns and I feel a semblance of myself come back. There is still the deep, longing for Nic, but I feel I can focus and carry on again.

“I’m sorry I’ve been absent and not here for you,” I say as we hug each other closely.

“That’s alright, Dad, we all miss her,” Bri says.

“Yeah, Dad, we understand,” Robert chimes in on the heels of Bri; both with tears running down their faces.

“Dad?” Bri asks looking up and wiping her tears away.

“Yes, hon,” I answer.

“I, we, want to be able to handle ourselves better, to help take care…” Bri starts saying.

“What’s Bri’s trying to say is we want to be trained like you,” Robert interrupts and finishes what Bri was beating around the bush trying to say, not knowing what my response will be.

“I was thinking along the same lines. We’ll fit that in as we build this place up,” I say sitting back on the pipe.

We watch the sun set and talk about us; relive memories. We remember the good times with Nic, talk some about the future, and even laugh some. As the sun vanishes below the trees, oranges spread across the horizon ahead of us behind the dark backdrop of the mountains. The oranges change to reds and then purples as we watch in silence; each of us content with the mere presence of each other. The day closes.

“Let’s head back downstairs and get ready for the night,” I say with a sigh; not wanting this moment to end. The world, sun, and universe doesn’t seem to care about us mere specks and our situation as time, or the measure of motion, does not stop or change but merely continues along as it always has. Or maybe it is its way of showing it cares in that time does carry on and doesn’t keep us stuck in our moment.

We rise and head down into our sanctuary, making sure the door is locked behind us and barred on the bottom. I turn and see Lynn standing close by.

“I’m back,” I say as she steps close.

“I’m so glad, Jack,” she whispers in my ear as she gives me a hug like a welcome home after a long journey.