Keeping the rage under control but feeling it just below the surface, she edges farther around. Her eyes widen and her heart leaps. There! Above by the stairs on the far side. Sandra sees the female she saw through the two-legged one’s mind so many nights ago. A mixture of emotions filters in. She doesn’t have many, but those she does have mix — hunger, anticipation, rage, and a feeling that would be most associated with glee. She directs her pack to that single set of stairs and shows them an image of the female and her position. The pack responds with a louder chorus of shrieks.
Lynn sets her small crosshair on yet another target. The room is filled with the acrid stench of bodies torn asunder and gunpowder. The upper balcony has a haze from the smoke ejected with their rounds. They are keeping the night runners at bay for the moment. Hundreds have fallen yet there is still a multitude pushing from behind. They haven’t reached the escalator as yet but they are attempting to scale the elevator. She and Black Team have been holding the wide, wooden stairs clear and the bodies lying at the foot of the stairs attest to their ability to do so. The bottom four steps are lost from sight under the carnage they are continuing to inflict on the horde attempting to gain the upper levels.
Lynn flinches as the shrieks screaming from below actually grow louder. She didn’t think that was at all possible but it grows to the point where the very walls shake. The floor beneath her boots trembles from the pounding of night runners below. She watches as the night runners shift direction as a single mass. They are heading under the balcony and her way.
Some still try to get to the escalator and scale the elevator but the majority of them seem to be coming her way. The shift is so quick and sudden, it takes her by surprise. She directs her fire into the horde starting to scale the stairs. There’s no time to make a radio call redirecting the other team’s fire but she hopes they will realize the change in flow and respond. Her teams and others direct fire into those attempting to climb the stairs. Night runners are packed on them and race upward. As fierce as the fire is that is directed into them, it isn’t enough to keep them from rapidly advancing upward. Lynn has the sense that they’ve failed but continues to target night runners after night runner with her fire.
The sheer volume of rounds leaving her barrel heats it. Exchanging an empty mag for a full one, she pours more fire into the mass of night runners closing in. Lynn thinks about pulling back and establishing another line past the escalator and is about to issue the command when a surge pushes the night runners up and over the teams protecting the stairs.
The suddenness of the surge surprises Lynn. The leading night runners that make their way through their fire slam into her. She is hit and goes down with her head hitting the hard linoleum floor. Stunned, she watches as her gun clatters to the ground beside her and is kicked away by a swarm of feet that are suddenly there. Rolling to her side, she reaches for it but it remains just out of her grasp. She pushes upward knowing she must fight. If they don’t fight them off, all will be lost. She is hit hard in the head again and slumps to the floor.
She feels the coolness of the linoleum on her cheek. Feet race by her limited vision. Fear envelopes her. Another hit to the head stuns her. She must rise. She is scared, not really for her own life as she’s seen the face of death many times. She is afraid for the others and the sense of her own failure. Her vision hovers on the edge. This is the end. Please make this quick and painless, she thinks as her breath stirs dust on the hard floor. Jack, please forgive me for failing. I love you! Her peripheral vision of the small amount of floor and feet she can see draws inward. A tear leaks to the ground, dropping to mix with the dust under her head. She is at least thankful she doesn’t feel any pain. Her vision fades.