“What’s wrong, Jack?” She asks.
“I don’t know. I sometimes feel that I can’t do this. It just feels like too much and it’s never-ending. We’re going to get tired at this pace, overlook something and then it’s all over. It’s going to catch up to us and trying to second-guess the night runners and their stupid ability to adapt is like trying to hold water in your hand. Seal something up and another place leaks,” I say, wearily.
“Jack, you don’t have to do it all yourself. You’re trying to do it all and taking too much of the load,” Lynn says.
“Good Lord, Lynn. I’m not doing anything. Everyone else is doing it. If we keep this pace and constant stress level, and we have to if we’re going to survive, the mental breakdown will come soon. We’re all going to have PTSD on top of everything else,” I say.
“Believe it or not, these people look up to you and us in the leadership group to make the right choices. We’ve come this far and we’ll make it. We just have to take it one day at a time. You’re loading it all on yourself. You don’t have to run around and be there all of the time. You’re going to wear yourself out,” Lynn says.
“I can’t ask others to go into danger I’m not willing to put myself into as well. I’ve always felt more comfortable being in front and leading from there. That’s just how I’m geared,” I reply.
“I know, Jack. You just need to pace yourself. And when your flying toys get taken away, you’ll be standing around wondering what the hell to do. That’s the moment I’m both looking forward to and not. I know you and what happens when you have too much time on your hands,” she says, smiling.
“Haha… very funny. Maybe I’ll learn to drive a sub,” I answer, looking back and smiling. She always knows how to pull me out of a funk, which is exactly where I was. I can feel a renewal of energy. She’s right, we’ll just make it one day at a time and do the best we can.
“Oh, yeah, that’s what needs to happen,” Lynn says rolling her eyes. “Please give us plenty of warning before that happens. I can see it now. ‘Lynn, would you please come give me a push. I seem to have beached a nuclear missile sub’.”
I chuckle and lie back on my cot. Lynn curls up next to me with her arms wrapped around me. Peace and contentment flood through my body. The weight I felt before feels a lot lighter now. Thoughts still course through my head but they’re eventually pushed to the side as I lie next to her.
Sandra wakes. The hard, wooden floor beneath her is cold and unyielding. Her pack surrounds her providing warmth. The sense of others waking enters her mind. The vast room is filled with other packs but there is still plenty of room for many more. She stirs and sits, readying herself for the nightly hunt. Although she doesn’t notice it on a conscious level, the air is filled with the musky scent of unwashed bodies, the smell of her kind.
She rises and stretches, the kinks of sleeping on the hard floor working themselves out. Thinking of the young one inside, she ponders how the nightly hunt will go with so many. She knows she wants to take her pack up to the area around the two-legged one’s lair. The tug on her mind is strong and she wants to look it over. She doesn’t agree with Michael that they need to pull back. They should attack and eliminate any threat to the packs. However, she doesn’t want to let him know she disagrees as yet. The intrigue with the other one in the two-legged lair is another reason she wants to go there. She doesn’t know exactly what her feeling is, or why she has it, just that it exists. Feeling eyes on her, she turns to see Michael standing in the middle of the open area looking in her direction. The look he is giving her is one of perplexity yet with a searching aspect. She has the feeling he is analyzing her. She returns his gaze. Michael releases his stare after a moment turning to the other pack leaders gathering around him.
Michael rises from resting in the middle of the wooden floor. The jostle of other waking in the lair garners only a little of his attention. Part of his mind is busy with how to conduct the nightly hunt with so many to feed. He knows there isn’t enough food in the local area for a pack of this size. They will have to spread out in order to not only feed for this night, but others. However, the greater part of his mind is on the female night runner, Sandra, who came in with her pack last night. He caught her tight-lipped expression indicating a disagreement with his notion that they need to pull back in order to save the pack from the two-legged ones. There’s also something else about her that he can’t quite figure out. He doesn’t trust her implicitly. She seems to have something in mind but he doesn’t know exactly what it is from her thoughts. She, like him, seems to have the ability to shield herself when she wants.
He continues to look in her direction as she rises from her position and stretches. The good of the pack rests on his shoulders. He wasn’t ready for the gathering as yet but here they are. The other pack leaders gather around him and he senses anxiety within each of them. After all, they came together in a moment of distress. His thoughts return to the night before; the streaks of light streaming down from the night sky. The images and sense of packs vanishing as those lights poured from seemingly nothing.
Every one of them felt the other packs’ demise and they are nervous about the coming night. They all heard the thunderous explosions and saw the large flashes of light throughout the night. Michael wonders if the same thing will occur tonight. Without knowing what it was, he plans to keep the pack away from that area. He will disperse them to the other areas for the hunt. He knows he needs to break them into smaller groups for the hunt and send them into the outlying areas.
Sandra arrives in the circle of other pack leaders. He senses the young one she is carrying within her. There are others who carry young ones as well. These will be the future pack members and leaders so they must be fed and protected. He had given a lot of thought during the time he isolated himself as to how to hunt and capture food, especially with larger packs. He sends images to the pack leaders of how to corner food, come at the food from different angles, and how to drive food into waiting pack members. He outlines areas for each and then sends them on their way with one last image; beware of the thing from above. If they hear it in the sky near them, they are to take cover in the nearest building. For himself, he will go with a different pack each night.
Sandra runs through the street. The sound of her pack close behind her echoes off the abandoned two-legged abodes on both sides of her. Most of the places they traveled this night have been burnt to the ground. In some, only the skeletal remains are seen while others have been razed to the ground. Trees, lining the street and cast in the shadows in the grayness of her sight, pass by as she and her pack search for prey. Michael assigned her pack an area to cover for food. Feeling a persistent tug to the north and the two-legged lair, she has gradually turned her pack in that direction.
She rounds a corner and leads her pack even closer. The houses and trees suddenly give way to rubble and destroyed buildings. She stops and gazes out over this sudden change in their surroundings. Glass and debris are scattered in the open areas in front of each building. Large chunks of the structures lie in the streets before her. She sees wisps of smoke rising from some places where the buildings once stood and an acrid odor permeates the area. She recognizes the scent as similar to that emitted after the two-legged ones fire their guns. Caution grips her as she continues to survey the scene. She feels the restlessness of her pack standing still both behind her and to the side. They all remember the image sent by Michael of the danger above and they all felt the loss of packs last night.