catching a rib and shattering it, spreading the pieces of bone along with the now fragmented round into the chest cavity. The bone and metal tear through the vessels and lung. The light blue, denim overalls absorb the blood flowing from the entry wound creating a splotch of blood. The second round hits just below the left clavicle, destroying the bone before exiting out of the back. A third round hits the night runner square in the throat and sprays blood in all directions. I feel the splash of it hit on my cheeks and forehead.
The momentum carries it on towards me. I side step to the right bringing the stock of my carbine around hitting the back of its head with a hard whack as it passes by me. It tumbles to the floor beside me. I stomp my boot down solidly against its neck as it hits the floor feeling the neck break and shatter beneath my heel. It spasms twice before falling limp. I wheel around quickly checking the lane again only to find it empty.
We reach the far door without encountering any more night runners and I have Red Team form a semi-circle around the closed door. Their lights pan around the room like mini spotlights shining from an event as I undo the latches on the side of the door. I move the night runner’s body to the side and raise the door, blinking with the increase of light from the afternoon sun that pours into the shop. The interior is now fully lit with the lanes only shades of gray. We head back down the interior in the same formation ensuring the shop is indeed clear.
* * * * * *
Robert stands behind his dad with the olive drab canister in his hand, waiting for the word to toss the flash bang. He hopes for a good toss as he doesn’t want to screw up as he has been given the chance to become part of the team. He feels tense with nervousness and moves the canister up and down, testing its weight to coordinate his mind with the physical aspect in order to make a good toss inside. The past few days have been a roller-coaster of feelings, emotions, and dealing with the feeling as if this is all a dream – both good and bad. The bad is obvious but there is a part of him that has wanted to be able to test himself in a stressful situation. To prove himself as it were. Doesn’t get any more stressful than this , he thinks looking at the entrance and waiting.
“Ready ladies and gents?” We’re in on the flash,” He hears his dad say by his side and Robert nods his answer. He then edges to the right, directly beside his dad, so he can get into a good position.
“Let’s do this,” his dad says. He pulls pin and tosses the canister inside, quickly pulling back alongside the outside wall.
He hears the cans bounce across the concrete floor and tenses, anticipating the explosion of light and sound. He has never seen a real flash bang go off, other than the movie renditions, so doesn’t know what to expect. So far, a lot of things that have happened have been so different than he imagined. The detail necessary to survive along with the fear, nervousness, and sheer adrenaline rush of actually being in combat. Some things just taking over naturally. That is the greatest surprise of all, the automatic responses coming regardless of the fear. Standing ready, anticipating the coming explosion and subsequent entry, he feels a deep thankfulness for all of the time he spent with his dad.
Light flashes out of the open entrance accompanied with a thunderous roar. Now, that’s like the movies , he thinks as he sees his dad rise and rush in. Robert follows directly beside him with his M-4 up and ready. His light pans around the front and to the side catching only shelves and equipment. Walking further into the building, gunfire erupts directly off to his right and behind him. The sudden noise startles him and he turns quickly to his immediate right and catches a night runner
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