Ashton Daigle

William Chambers was shuffling around nervously as Ryan Hendrickson and Max burst into the guard station.

They slammed the door shut behind them and locked it as they quickly began to strip out of their night vision goggles.

“What is it?” Chambers demanded. “What the hell happened out there?”

Both Ryan and Max were still too winded to get words out, but Ryan tried to describe it with hand gestures, which was basically an exercise in futility. Max was still very pale and clammy and vomit stained his chin and the front of his fatigues, which he was wrestling with, trying to get off.

“Good God, what is that smell?” Chambers asked.

“He threw up,” said Ryan, who had removed his sweater and the Kevlar vest. “I almost did too. Jesus Christ William, something literally made us physically ill.”

Chambers, who stayed behind at the guard station only manning a radio set, was completely unaware of what Ryan and Max had experienced. He hadn’t been able to see or feel anything they did while they were walking the perimeter. The result was akin to being handicapped.

“Was it some kind of gas?” asked William, who was still grounded in trying to find a rational explanation.

“There was something fucking creepy out there,” Max was finally able to spit out. “I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t fucking natural William.

“What are you suggesting Max?” asked Chambers, who turned his head to Ryan for an answer. “What the hell is he talking about, Ryan? I demand some answers right away dammit.”

“Cool your fucking jets, William,” Ryan finally said flatly.

“Let us shower and change into some clean clothes. Drip us a pot of coffee. It might be a long night.”

Stunned and perplexed, William finally did as he was asked.

About twenty minutes later, the three of them sat around a table in the kitchen of the guard station silently, looking at each other with bewildered looks on their faces.

William looked at Ryan and then Max and then finally spoke up, “What exactly did you mean when you said there was something unnatural out there?” he asked. “You know, I would have thought twice before even joking about Goody Cole if I had thought that you two were going to come running back here, screaming like a couple of girls.”

“I didn’t see you out there walking point tonight,” Max said, aggravated. “You weren’t there so you really don’t know what we saw.”

“I will not tolerate an insubordinate tongue from either of you,” said William Chambers. “In case you’ve both forgotten, you’re being paid to perform a job here. I suggest you try very hard to conduct yourselves as the professionals that you both are.”

“Fuck you, you pompous little prick,” Max said. “Don’t try to pull that rank and file bullshit on me. I’ve been playing this game too long. And what I’m telling you is that we all need to throw out the damned playbook if we’re going to sort this mess out.”

Chambers bristled at the insult and, for a moment, looked like he was going to retort, but instead he half-waved his hand in resignation and said, “Very well.” He sighed and then looked to Ryan and said, “Take it from the beginning.”

“Max got me into position at Camera A,” Ryan said. “By the way, it was concealed nicely. There is no way anyone could have seen it with a naked eye, not even with night vision goggles.”

William nodded in approval.

“Shortly after I was in position, Max took off to go cover Camera B,” Ryan said. “He was probably gone five minutes when you first radioed, William, to tell me my camera was blacked out. It seemed a lot longer, but I remember glancing at my watch.”

“And what happened when I radioed?” Chambers asked.

“Just what I told you then,” Ryan replied. “There was nothing there.”

“But I saw the camera, Ryan,” Chambers said. “Something was blocking it. It wasn’t you, as I’d seen you off to the left just before it went black. What are you telling me, that we have an invisible man?”

“Don’t be an ass William,” Ryan said. “Besides, if it were an invisible man, it wouldn’t have blocked the camera out now would it have.”

“No,” William Chambers replied. “I imagine not.”

Ryan continued.

“At that point, a violent wave of nausea passed over me,” Ryan said. “It came out of nowhere.”

“Nerves,” William suggested, then added, “I’m not being facetious Ryan. I’m being serious.”

“I guess it’s possible,” Ryan said. “I’ve never had that problem before though. Just wait, there’s more. It was then that you also said that Max’s camera had blacked out too.”

“Max,” William Chambers said. “At that point, you said you felt something, and Ryan, you chimed in and said you felt something too. What was it? Actually hold on, don’t answer.”

William rose from the table, walked to the counter and returned with a small notebook and two pens. He sat down, tore out a sheet of paper and handed it to each of them and gave them both a pen.

“Write down what it is you thought you felt,” Chambers said. “It doesn’t have to be an essay, just a few words. I don’t want either of your perceptions biasing the other.”

“Fair enough,” Max said, nodding, as he scribbled on his sheet of paper.

Ryan did the same and within three minutes, both had finished and slid their sheets of paper over to Chambers.

“Hmm,” Chambers said as he scratched his chin. “Very interesting.”

“Well,” said Max.

“Well, Chambers began. “Barring a few adjectives, they’re almost identical. You both mention the word presence, you both say you felt something brush past you and you both mention that it felt like a rush of cold air. Ryan, you use the word malignant. That’s it.”

“That was about it,” Max said.

“I know we started off on the wrong foot here,” Chambers said. “I don’t want either of you to think I’m discounting what you say. But I implore you to please keep a level head about you. We absolutely must consider rational explanations and causes before we begin chasing flights of fancy. Anyway, I’m going to put this out there, as the students like to say. It is windy tonight. It is also very foggy. We have a cold front moving in and it is mingling with the warmer ground temperatures. It’s just something to consider.”

Max and Ryan both nodded and Max said, “Fair enough. I’ll give you that.”

“At that point, I think, Max told me to move to his position,” Ryan said. “I’m not embarrassed to say it, but I’ve never been more relieved in my life. I ran. I didn’t jog, I ran to his position. Again, I can’t explain it, but it felt like I was being chased. I could almost hear it breathing hard.

“Anyway, I literally ran smack into Max,” Ryan said.

“We were standing together then,” Max picked up the dialogue. “There was a noise. It sounded like something big and heavy crashing through the woods.”

“You both heard this?” Chambers asked.

“Oh yeah,” Ryan said. “There was no mistaking this sound. There was nothing, unearthly about it. It was very big, very discernable. The only thing odd about it, is that at first, it sounded like it was coming through the woods on the other side of the fence.”

“But then, just that quick, it sounded like it was clearly behind us,” Max added. “We both spun around, with our weapons drawn. At that instant, there was no fog.”

“True,” Ryan agreed. “There was nothing. I looked to make sure a branch or limb hadn’t fallen, but nothing was on the ground but leaves.”

“That was when we heard the children,” Max said.

William Chambers almost choked on his coffee at that point.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“Well, there was the sound of the breeze swooshing past us again,” Ryan said. “My nausea returned. It started out light, but then became clearer. It was the sound of children, laughing and playing.”

“It sounded distant, but close at the same time,” Max said. “I know it sounds strange but there’s no other way to describe it. I even said it to Ryan. At that point, I too felt real nauseous, and I began throwing up. It came out of nowhere.”

“And then what?” Chambers asked.

“I got Max to his feet and we came back here immediately,” Ryan said.

They sat silently again for a few minutes. Chambers mulled over the information for a long time before finally saying, “Thoughts.”

Max shook his head negatively.

“I have no idea,” Ryan said.

“Well, I think William is right on a few things,” Max said. “I think we need to consider logical explanations. First and foremost, if it wasn’t something unnatural, and I’m not saying anything one way or another just yet, it sure wants us to think it is. In a word, I think somebody is trying really hard to fuck with our heads.”

“Well, I think we should look at the facts,” Chambers said. “One fact is that you both felt physically ill. I think we start there. You both reported a smell. What did it smell like, was it sulfurous, phosphorous?”

“A gas bomb of some sort,” Max said. “Like a tear gas canister, but not tear gas. Come to think of it, the smell did remind me of something.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ryan said. “Egg water, would that be sulfur?”

“Any kind of canister like that puts out a lot of fucking smoke though,” Max said. “We would have noticed it. I’m sure of it.”

“Even under the cover of tonight’s fog?” William asked.

“I didn’t think about that,” Max admitted. “I guess that’s possible.”

Just then Ryan’s face lit up and he said, “I just thought about something, I’ve actually been meaning to ask. This is about the cameras.”

“Go ahead,” William said.

“What sort of frequency are they on?” Ryan asked. “Is it radio waves?”

“No microwave,” Max said. “I think I know where you’re going with this.”

“Could someone or something be jamming the camera’s frequency?” Ryan asked. “I know it’s possible to jam transmissions with radio waves, even cell phones, but what about microwaves?”

“I’m not saying it’s impossible,” Max said. “But if it’s possible, I’ve never heard of it being done before.”

“William,” Ryan said. “Thoughts.”

“I think we should pursue these avenues until we exhaust all possibilities,” William said.

“What about the hot list?” Ryan said.

The hot list was a continuous running list of Piedmont students, an algorithm of sorts which considered a number of personal and socio-political factors, that, at any moment, could generate a list of students that were most “at risk” for assassination or kidnapping attempts.

“Max and I have been through that already,” Chambers said. “There are no more “hot” students left. They’ve all gone home to their families for the holiday, most of them under armed, federal protection.”

“Is that odd?” Ryan asked.

“No, not really,” Max replied.

“What about warm students?” Ryan asked.

“Well Ryan, we don’t really officially classify anything beyond hot,” Chambers said.

“What about un-officially?” Ryan asked.

“There are a couple warm students I imagine,” Chambers said. “The warmest would be Furkan, Ahmet and Elif. They’re brothers and sisters. Furkan is seven; Ahmet is 10 and their suster Elif is thirteen. They’re from Afghanistan. They’re father was a member of Al-Qaeda. But he defected to the United States, shortly after the 9-11 attacks Ryan.”

This news obviously struck a chord with Ryan, but he tried to keep himself under wraps.

“You never told me that, William,” Ryan finally said.

“You never asked,” Chambers said. “I certainly never kept it from you, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate.”

“No,” Ryan said, still feeling uneasy. “Why aren’t they on the hot list any more?”

“Well time moves on Ryan,” Chambers said. “Perhaps not for one like yourself, who suffered personal loss during the attacks. But military and terrorist priorities are always moving, always shifting. You know that. Simply put, they’re old news.”

“No one forgets a traitor, William,” Ryan said. “You of all people should know that. Especially not Al-Qaeda. Could the hot list be wrong?”

“It’s not an exact science Ryan,” Chambers said. “So no, it’s not an exact science. But it has a 97 percent accuracy rate.”

“So who are the other warm kids, William?” Ryan asked. “You said there were a few.”

“I knew you were going to get around to asking that eventually Ryan,” Chambers said. “And, quite frankly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. We have two more “warm” students - Ethan and Roger.”

For the second time that night, Ryan Hendrickson felt like he was going to throw up.