Free A New World: Sanctuary by John O'Brien Page A

those gates being blocked.   I’m not sure how blocked they are and what it will take to clear a route so I take the route I know is open.   Time still weighs heavily on me and I don’t want to come across anything else that will impede our progress.   We come to the guard booths, once again having to traverse over and around the now highly decomposing corpses, just as the phone in my pocket vibrates.
    “Are you coming?”   The text appears.   Yes, it’s from Kelly.
    I radio Lynn letting her know we are exiting the base and heading south.
    “Okay, Jack.   Be careful.   See you soon,” she replies over the airwaves.
    “Roger that.   You too,” I reply.
    The afternoon is passing quickly as I begin typing my response to Kelly.
    “We’ll be leaving in a few hours.   Thinking around eight tonight.   Might have to stay the night.   Have water and scent-free candles handy.”
    The phone vibrates again a short time later as we are coming up on the outer gates.
    “That late?”   Ugh, I swear , I think starting to reply.
    “I’m moving as fast as I can.   You can drive up if you want,” I text back.
    “No.   We’ll wait for you here,” Kelly texts.
    “Okay.   Call you when we’re on the way,” I type and press the send button.
    Hitting the Interstate, we turn southward once again.   This is beginning to feel like I’m driving a mail route.   The sun is far too low in the sky for my taste given all that needs to happen between now and when it dips below the western horizon.   I can almost literally see it shoot across the sky.   Continuing south, we drive past the lower marshlands of the Nisqually Basin.   The tide is out and the mud flats are revealed.   Cranes line the water edge, standing elegantly on their long legs and occasionally dipping their beaks when they find something that interests them.   I look out over the waters of the South Puget Sound, glistening and sparkling with reflections of the sun on its surface, and see a bald eagle sitting on a tall post jutting out of the water.   The eagle leaps from the post and soars across the water, climbing higher into the afternoon sky.   My heart goes out and I wish I could soar along with it.
    Climbing the hill on the far side of the basin, with the exit we want lying just ahead, I look anxiously ahead.   The tops of the fir trees lining the tall embankments sway slightly in an afternoon breeze.   I see the Humvee directly behind me trudge up the slope in my rear view.   Cresting the hill, I take the exit and turn onto a recently paved road.   Passing by two round-a-bouts and taking a side road, I turn into the drive leading to the outdoor store.
    The store is hidden by a slope in the long driveway, slowly showing more of itself the closer I get; first the green, metal roof, then the large yellow sign before the reddish-brown, wooden building comes fully into view as we top the small hill.   Large paved parking lots encircle the area around the store with light poles set in a scattered pattern throughout.   The building exhibits both the feeling of hiding danger behind its walls and one of safety.   The danger comes from my experience within buildings and the safety from my thought that this will provide a sanctuary for us.
    I pull up to the front of the store, staying back from the covered drive-thru area by the front doors.   Four sets of double glass doors, two sets on the left and two on the right, with two large panes of glass between them, make up the front entrance.   A small foyer exists inside with a second set of entrance doors identical to the first ones across a small tiled vestibule.   My heart leaps into my throat looking at the entrance.   Shards of glass litter the wide concrete sidewalk; one of the large panes of glass is broken and very little glass remains in its frame.
    “That’s not good,” I say as we all gather on the pavement by the drive-thru.
    The familiar pattern of faint footprints, marked by