(It's) Always There
Copyright© 2026 by Daniel Tors
Chapter 1
It remained with blinds shuttered and doors closed, no traces of life, nothing from the outside signifying it was anything but empty.
His time spent watching the home turned up nothing useful. Once, he heard a thud coming from its center-back, though the place it came from was useless. Hane knew the man was in there, what he needed then was to see him – just once, even for a moment; all it would take is a slight, deliberate brush against the curtains, perhaps so he could see out, and that would be enough.
The area was densely wooded with thin, dry-looking trees, but Hane could see everywhere he needed to. Whoever it was they followed had entered the plain, one-story home through its frontside, which had a door with one large window on both sides of it, bullet holes strung across them. Ideally, such views into the home would make finding his target easier, but he had yet to get so lucky. Maybe this was because he intended to stay the night, or even lived there – or, he may have seen them in wait and taken to do the same. If Hane knew that, or had a little longer to observe him, he’d know what kind of person they were. The kind that followed, or not.
Lying prone with his body mostly blocked by a tree, Hane carefully drew his vision from the scope of his rifle to the sky. Daylight was still broad, birds still chirped, and heat bore down just as it had been. Dusk wasn’t here, but it would show soon, and the man indoors would only get more watchful as day wore to night.
It had been an hour, the stranger hadn’t shown, and he needed to be dealt with.
Tens of yards from the front entrance, Hane kept one eye placed firmly down his scope as he rose slowly from the ground. Dirt clung to his black fur and constantly sweat-drenched clothes, no weight placed on any fragile leaves or twigs as he made a clean maneuver up to a standing, partially hunched position. When all stayed quiet, his left arm raised and gestured, “Forward.”
A figure raised on either side of the home and matched how he stood, their forms barely perceivable amongst thick yet thin cover even then. Their lack of any signals now or before told Hane everything he needed to know; the three crept forward at once, each set to arrive at the same time. Nothing moved but them as they closed in, the relaxed forest’s ambience left as the only sounds in Hane’s ears.
The shattered back road which led there was clear in both directions, no one appearing from the worn, overgrowth-taken home or dilapidated car out front as he approached, either, Hane ignoring the small cameras which covered every angle he, and presumably the rest of them, could come from.
Coming to the door, brittle at its seams with aged, untended wood, he knew the others were where they ought to be. Hane removed, prepared, and set the dud three feet away, kept by its twine.
Firm stance. Pull. [Ching]. Grenade. Inside was motionless.
Two more chimes. His gun reeled and its base swung into the door with as much force as he could manage. Its hinges gave immediately; the terrible cracking noise it made broke through the soundscape for certainly over a mile in all directions as it sent wings around them scattering. He’d barely recovered before such sounds were made again, one up and to his left from the hallway, and the other off to his right. There was no one waiting on the other side nor any furniture substantial enough to conceal them – the vacant hole that was once a doorway shedding enough light to tell such. While instinctually checking the living room’s corners, Hane found that, due to an open floorplan, a friendly pair of eyes from the kitchen on his right had a complete view of where they were entering. He heard no cause for alarm – a few concise darts of the eyes as he moved further in confirming – and so, with no lulls in the flow of his movement, he kept on.
The home being wider than it was deep, there was a hall he initially faced which led widthwise to the interior’s back half, almost silent footsteps from there whose owner he was sure of were only made obvious by the floorboards’ incessant creaking. Breaching a room beside the hallway, this time with backup at the ready for either of those currently sweeping, Hane soon found the garage was vacant as well, though the blind spots made by a few household appliances needed to be checked first. Had the walls and garage door not been shot through, it would’ve been the perfect place to stay unseen.
Hane returned to find that the rest of their sweep had been conducted, the others taken from broad sight-lines, their expressions and presence in general saying nothing whatsoever was found. The two men looked to him, not concerned, but awaiting orders. Hane asked for a report with only a look.
Red answered, Hane’s gaze only removed from their surroundings and the sightlines within and placed onto his hands just long enough to understand. “One, dead, old.” When his superior gestured to one of the two bodies they’d been purposely stepping over and around to avoid extra noise, Red nodded that they were the same. They’d been completely skeletonized by this point though their gear was still in good condition barring where it had been bitten through by some predator or another; the room itself was also oddly lacking in plants covering its floor, he’d noticed, all of this making it hard to tell when exactly they’d died. Hane knew their stranger didn’t kill them, though that alone didn’t mean much.
Case, the youngest of them, answered right after his equal did, signing, “Two, dead, old.” With no further clarifications coming, Hane could only assume these bodies he found near the hall were in the same state.
He looked to both of them, in effect asking if there was anything more. There wasn’t.
Hane started to consider what he knew – that all angles of the home and its surroundings were covered within the minute their stranger entered, the roof was stylized to be flat which meant there was no attic, and no cellar door was visible from the outside – for a second before being forced to refocus.
Two gunshots could be heard below them. They were muffled, but unmistakable. He ordered, “Perimeter,” with a gesture, further instructing them to replace the doors in the living area and wait by them while he searched. The two did as they were told, Hane then left with a thorough search under unideal lighting.
Suicide could be easily ruled out, though whatever happened wasn’t clear beyond that, Hane only coming up with absurd scenarios where this was used as a ploy, surprise tactic, or method of funneling them. If it was only the stranger, and he knew they were there, he could’ve hidden out below them and waited until they left or found wherever he was; he wouldn’t be sacrificing the element of surprise and may avoid conflict entirely in doing so. It surely wasn’t just him, though. Regardless, the situation as he knew it wasn’t enough to identify who else was there or change his methods of dealing with it all that much. There was still an unknown person near them. Maybe there were two, maybe one had been weakened or made recently deceased; it didn’t really matter in terms of his approach. Greater caution was necessary, sure, but Hane’s worries were about the same. More to consider, more most likely scenarios to go over, not much to change without further information.
Having yet to find the entrance, Hane, glancing on his way at what seemed to be a master bedroom darkened by boards over the window, went to close off their third entrance so he could examine the hall. Once he was nearly there – close enough to have a slight angle on the back porch – he saw something glisten. Made of brass and about the size of a quarter was a lock embedded in the floor, a slight concavity behind and opposite it presumably being how the hatch was opened, all of which was beside a long carpet which he pushed against the wall, uncovering abrasions at the hem from repeated use. Looking to signal the others, each of them in varying amounts of cover behind him, Red scolded his equal with a side-eye – it was acknowledged, though Case’s disposition was unaffected.
As the back door was being closed such that some light was allowed in, Hane tested the hatch. When it started to move, he set it back down, waiting until everyone was in a proper position before he continued. Ensuring he opened it from the side most likely its “back” to avoid being fired on instantly, Hane lifted the immensely heavy, two-foot-thick, probably steel-reinforced slab of concrete without a sound. He and Red took the only safe positions at the opening’s corners once they could tell which direction it led.
Inside was a small drop followed by about a dozen stairs leading down to a short hall and sharp corner. He could see that much fine enough, but they’d need another light source if it went much deeper than that. They descended.
Hane was stopped in the hall mid-gesture to Case by a sound. It was from around the corner and sounded like someone trying to turn the knob of a door, but they failed repeatedly, even seeming to have trouble grasping the mechanism consistently. When they finally managed it, he saw ... electric lighting. Yes ... that’s definitely what it was, however dim its presence...
His brief moment of ponderance was drawn back by the heaving, tattered breaths of whoever was around the corner, their steps irregular while, by the sound of it, they barely managed to keep themselves upright. Unintelligible mumbling made it easy to tell when they would cross into view – it also left one less question for him to ask. After stumbling just far enough to be seen, and the first time their words could be understood, a distinctly girlish voice said, “I didn’t m-mean it...” She crumpled to the floor when her legs gave way and bound hands couldn’t offer any more support, the girl shuddering and groaning in pain until her body went completely limp. She hadn’t seen them, or was possibly too out of it to do so, and no sound or motion arose afterwards.
For a minute they stayed crouched there, waiting for someone to show, watching to see if anyone was doing the same for them. If the girl was delirious and had no idea they were there, that didn’t mean whoever they followed didn’t know – didn’t let her leave to keep his position. There was no point in trying to discern what happened with this much up for question, though Hane doubted she’d be very accurate aiming a firearm.
Blood leaked slowly from the back of her head; no one peered back at them.
He and Red took the left side while Case stayed back at the hatch watching the corner as they approached it. Hane’s gaze locked on that same place with the girl taking a backseat in his peripheral; he was, at any moment, ready to shoot whatever moved.
The sharp turn revealed no threat. Instead, it showed who they were looking for. More-or-less in the center of the room that followed was their stranger lying motionless on the ground, Hane’s assumption about the girl’s aim evidently proven wrong by the large chunk of skull he was missing. Much of his upper muzzle and face had been blown off with hollow-point, blood still pouring from this fatal wound, the pool it formed soaking into the concrete below and wooden table he laid next to. At a distance behind him was a handgun, the one presumably used to shoot him while he faced away.
Dragging the girl to where she could be more readily seen, each of them took a section of the shelter’s first, confoundingly still lit, room. “Room,” doesn’t quite capture what they were in, really. It was slightly smaller than the entire home above them and matched its general shape, though the layouts differed greatly, especially in that its sections weren’t partitioned. Nearly a third of its floorplan, and much of what he passed through, was taken up by different sorts of lounging areas, all likely meant in some capacity for reading as the walls were shy of completely covered with bookshelves. Red could be seen in the kitchen, who could see Case by a workbench for mechanical tinkering ... They could see anyone, from anywhere, at any time.
Several rooms sparingly lined the shelter’s walls, though they were smaller than the first. A simple bedroom with two places to sleep, a small bathroom with strange-looking appliances, and a couple utility rooms, including a place to do laundry, were all cleared. Notably, while in the common area, they passed a functioning computer he’d seen before – the thick sort that was durable but not so quick – which he now saw had a feed of all the above-ground cameras, inside and outside the home, on its monitor.
Hane stopped upon seeing the last room. He told Case in typical, two-handed American Sign Language unlike their militaristic signals before now, to go back with Red, close the hatch, lock it, and wait by this door while they sweep the inside. He’s to watch the girl, as well. His immediate help would be welcome in most situations, but, illuminated even more poorly, was a storage area the size of a chain hardware store. Very roughly estimating it came in at over one-hundred-thousand square feet, making the time it would take for him to return far less instant than he’d like. If the girl woke up, Hane would rather someone was watching her while he and Red swept dozens of aisles of supplies.