After the debriefing, I filled Dad and Brenden in on so more minor details along with contingency plans in case things went sideways before distributing all the resources I had allotted for tomorrow.
Potions, equipnt, Particle water, I spared no expense, not that it could even be called that, as the majority of what I’d gotten my hands on was earned in the Caverns or looted off the bodies of the returners I’ve fought.
By the end, everyone had multiple weapons and backup weapons, so of which weren’t the most amazing tools but still effective given the fact that we would be dealing with at the WORST Alpha-Rank returners.
"No Kevlar or anything to stop bullets?" My dad finally asked after arranging all the items in his inventory.
"There’s no point; our armor can easily stop nine-milliter rounds, and we will barely feel them and only need to protect our heads; the issue would be those shotguns they carry, especially the sawed-off one, but even then, it’ll only feel like getting hit with a sledge hamr, nothing we haven’t dealt with before." Shrugging my shoulders, I rembered sothing I had swiped back in England and took out one of the two SIG Sauer P226 pistols before handing it over to my father with a few preloaded magazines.
"Oh, well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes? I haven’t held or even seen a P226 in decades," taking the handgun and looking at it as one would a lover, my father caressed the gun for a few seconds before storing it away in his inventory.
"Hey, HEY WHERE’S MINE?" Beside him, Brenden shouted while giving a dirty look.
"This is favoritism; why does Dad get a gun, but I don’t? Let guess: you have one, too, which makes the odd man out. What GIVES!"
THUMP
"Brenden, you are physically a pre-teen; use your head; if a kid is seen walking around with a gun when there are already two active shooters, how do you suppose that will look." Smacking the youngest among us upside the head, my father scolded Brenden as only he could, causing him to fall silent.
"I an, hey, if you don’t want a free TEC-9 or 995 Carbine or even a bunch of pipe bombs that can be upgraded, so be it," I said with a shrug, indicating that all the weapons and bombs were basically fair ga and first co first serve.
"I CALL DIBS ON THE RIFLE!" Waving his hand and shooting Dad and strange looks, Brenden’s spirits were instantly lifted.
"To be fair, it’s a 9mm rifle…not an AR-15 or anything, but sure, you can have it. Now get ready for bed; we gotta be up and out the door at 8 am." Waving my hand, a bunch of blankets and pillows dropped out of my inventory onto the floor.
I’d rather be trapped in the Undead Caverns for ten years than share a bed with my brother, who kicks and punches like hes in an action movie, and my father, who rolls around constantly, so the floor was the best option.
"Awwww, look at him, hes making a nest, heh, I miss these days, being on road trips, getting a bed all to myself, So nostal… HMPHHMHMHMM"
Before Brenden could finish the word nostalgic, I had hurled not one but five pillows at his head before burying him under a small mountain.
With my brother struggling to free himself from the mory foam pillows, my dad laughing, and setting up layers of blankets and pillows to make…as my brother called it…a nest, the three of us went to sleep, knowing that tomorrow was either going to go according to plan, or beco a total shit show due to outside interference.
Funnily enough, Brenden was the first one out for the night, followed by Dad, and then there was , who was lying on my back staring up at the hotel room ceiling.
’Sothing doesn’t feel right, I don’t discredit the premise of having a sixth sense or anything, but if I had one, it would be freaking out right now.’ I thought as I found myself unable to shake the unsettling feeling rising in my chest.
’It’s like sothing is telling that nothing is going to go right tomorrow…my gut is never wrong,’ sitting up and snapping my eyes open, I dawned my Xipher gear, cloak and all, and was soon on the move.
Sneaking out the hotel room window, I used my claws to scale to the roof and then headed off in the direction of the town where Columbine was located, Littleton.
Moving in the dead of night and utilizing my cloak, I was able to arrive at my target location, the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office.
As expected, even though it was 2 in the morning, there was still quite a bit of activity in the small departnt, but that was nothing for to worry about as I infiltrated the building and arrived at the large room housing all the SWAT team gear.
Approximately an hour later, I snuck back into the hotel room only to find my father wide awake and sitting on the bed, looking at the window right as I arrived.
’Couldn’t sleep?’ he asked through the newly reestablished Telepathic link.
’No, I have a bad feeling and wanted a little extra insurance,’ I responded as I stored away my gear and took out a full set of swat equipnt before placing it on my dad’s bed.
’Tactical gear?’ He asked before trying on the uniform to ensure it fit.
’Change of plans, Dad, you will be moving separately from Brenden and . I want you to blend in with the first responders; with the helt and goggles, people won’t be able to differentiate you from anyone else; add in the chaos that will be happening around us, and blending in will be easy for you who has previous experience.’
’You even got a rifle; your brother will be jealous,’ Picking up the tactical assault-style rifle, my dad quickly broke it down to components to ensure it was in working order before reassembling it and placing the gun and multiple full magazines into his inventory.
’Don’t care. It’s better to be safe than sorry. I need an inside man. I also nabbed us so radios, so Brenden and I will be able to listen in on what you guys are doing.’
’Everything’s going to be fine, Taylor, just get so sleep…’ Glancing at as he took off the uniform, Dad got back in bed and drifted off not long later, along with , who had done all he could to prepare…As I felt my mind go hazy due to exhaustion, I continued running through my plans for tomorrow until I finally gave in and fell asleep.
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