by Ike Hamill
“You think there are alligators in there?” Jackson asked. He laughed at Liam’s horrified expression. “I’m just kidding. I suppose we could jump it. It’s not too wide over there. Doesn’t seem polite though.”
Jackson cupped his hands around his mouth to shout.
“Merle? Liam needs to talk with you.”
Jackson stepped aside. Across the muddy moat and then a bald patch of lawn, the house stood alone in the circular clearing. There was a driveway that ran up to the front of the garage, but it had been torn up for the sake of the moat.
“I don’t think he’s home.”
“Oh, he’s home. You can tell by the way that he’s not coming out to say anything. He’s watching us, very carefully. I’m guessing that he wants me to make a fool of myself before he comes out.”
“What?” Liam asked. He was too late. Jackson was already off, walking the perimeter around the moat. He was headed right for the spot where a bush was right alongside the ditch. There, the moat had to be at least ten feet across and just as deep. The dirt that Merle had pulled from the ground had been piled just inside the moat and compacted by the tracks of the excavator. In order to get across, Jackson would have to clear the ten foot ditch and manage to get on top of the dirt mound on the other side. Because of the bush, the spot that Jackson had chosen for the attempt was the worst spot around. It was in full view of the front windows of the house though. As Jackson prepared himself, Liam saw one of the upstairs curtains twitch.
Jackson shouted toward the house. “I figure you must have a bridge somewhere in there. If you’re not going to put it down, then I’m going to have to jump.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Without even a running approach, Jackson attempted to jump across the moat. To Liam’s surprise, Jackson nearly made it all the way across. His feet dug into the far side and his momentum took his upper half forward until Jackson was clawing at the dirt. A moment later, Jackson was slipping down into the mud. Windmilling his arms, he toppled backwards, falling right into the deepest part of the moat. The mud was deeper than it looked. Jackson was sinking as his legs churned to find purchase.
Liam heard feet pounding down the stairs inside the house and the front door swung inwards as Merle ran out dragging a rope. The young man was smiling and shaking his head as he threw the rope down to his father.
“You’re going to kill yourself, Pop. There’s a ladder ’round back, you fool.”
Jackson couldn’t answer except to spit and gasp as he tried to clear the mud from his lips.
Merle turned to Liam. “Go around back. You’ll see what I mean.”
Liam watched long enough to see Jackson grab the rope and climb as his son pulled him up the muddy slope. When he was sure that Jackson was going to be okay, he picked his way around the outside of the moat until he stumbled over the ladder that was hidden in the brush. It took forever to extract the ladder from the grabbing limbs so he could extend it across the moat. With it in place, he still wasn’t sure that he could make it. Liam pictured what Merle would do—the young man would probably stroll right across the rungs, oblivious of the drop into the mud.
Liam carefully got down until he was straddling the ladder. Carefully, he inched his way across, gripping the ladder with his hands and his thighs. He was exhausted by the time his feet touched the far bank. When he had wriggled up onto the dirt mound, he figured he was almost as muddy as Jackson.
Liam rounded the house and found out that he had been dead wrong. Nothing was as muddy as Jackson. He watched as Merle turned on the hose and began to spray the mud from his father. Before long, it turned into a game. Merle would spray his father in the face until Jackson would take a run at him. Stepping out of the way at the last second, Merle dodged him like a matador until both were panting and laughing.
“Guys?” Liam asked. “We didn’t come here for games.”
“He’s right,” Jackson said, turning serious in an instant. He stood straight up, despite the hose blasting his face. “We came here for important stuff.”
“That’s okay,” Merle said. “The well is running low anyway.”
Spraying his dad one last time, he went to the wall and turned off the hose.
They went in through the garage. Merle threw a towel to Jackson and then stepped inside to get him some dry clothes while he wiped his face.
“You two go in. I’ll be along in a bit,” Jackson said.
Merle shrugged and showed Liam inside.
“Nice place,” Liam said. “Does it have a basement?”
“Sure. Down here.”
They went down the stairs from the kitchen.
“Haven’t seen you in a long time, Liam. Where have you been hiding?”
“I got an apartment, just west of the new stable.”
It wasn’t too bad down there. Merle had windows on the back of the house and a dehumidifier that kept the concrete walls from sweating. Liam felt better with the weight of the house above him. He settled down and sat on a stair. Merle shrugged again and sat on his workbench.
“Jackson knows more about it than I do,” Liam said, “but there’s some kind of dangerous air around.”
“Dangerous air?”
Liam scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to describe it, honestly. Corinna was out at some house and she couldn’t breathe. At the same time, her candle wouldn’t burn, and gasoline engines wouldn’t stay running. They think it has something to do with the air. Plus, there’s a problem with water not boiling. Anyway, the thought is that there is some kind of environmental contamination going on.”
“Everything is fine here,” Merle said. “I just boiled water this morning.”
“Yeah, most people aren’t having the problem. They think that it’s going to spread, I guess? Anyway, the reason that we’re here is because they want to find one of the bunkers that the military built in order to survive a war, I guess?”
Merle looked up and away, while biting his upper lip.
“We came out here because your dad thinks that you might know of a place that we can go?”
“Maybe,” Merle said. “I don’t know.”
“He said that you’ve explored all the bunkers around. You have a knack for finding them?”
“I enjoy it. I like the search. You remember that house you had off of Marshall Street?”
“Of course,” Liam said. It was the first house that he had lived in alone. Corinna had a room there, but she almost never used it. She said that she wanted Liam to have his independence, but he suspected that she really wanted to have her own. As soon as Liam had expressed any desire to go out on his own, she had practically pushed him into it. Together, they had searched all around, trying to find a place that was just right for him.
“You had that room decked out under the stairs,” Merle said.
Liam nodded. The basement of that house had been built out as an in-law apartment. Down there, with no windows, completely below ground, he could retreat when he felt the need. Corinna had frowned on his choice—calling the house a crutch. She didn’t realize that his crutch had a crutch. Merle had been the first one to discover Liam’s secret.
“I never would have found that door if you hadn’t left the light on in there,” Merle said.
“Yeah.”
The little room beneath the stairs had probably been decorated for a dog. There was a comfy mat under the sloping ceiling and a light in there. He imagined that the person who lived in the apartment had probably had a dog who was afraid of lightning. The room under the stairs was the perfect refuge away from the natural world. It was also the perfect place for Merle to hide when the idea of his parents splitting up was too much for him to bear. Liam hadn’t been upset when he found out that Merle had taken over the hiding place—he had been completely sympathetic.
“Anyway, so you know about a good bunker?”
“I know a place that’s like what you’re thinking. It’s totally decked out with gravity fed water filtration, geoth
ermal heating, chemical lighting, and storage space for years,” Merle said. “The blast doors look like they would withstand anything and it’s completely impossible to see until you know where it is. Load it up with some fresh provisions, and there’s no telling how long we could live down there. You would literally have no contact with the outside world, and it doesn’t even need external electricity to run. It’s really amazing.”
“Is it big enough for everyone?”
“Easily,” Merle said. “It’s not going to work though.”
“What? Why? It sounds like just what they’re looking for,” Liam said. He didn’t say what he was really thinking—it sounded like a perfect place for him, regardless of what everyone else wanted to do.
“It’s just not going to work,” Merle said.
“You want to keep it for yourself. You want it to be your secret place.”
“No. Trust me, I won’t go back there either.”
“You’re not making any sense, Merle. What’s wrong with the place?”
Merle shrugged and looked down. He didn’t seem to be able to look Liam in the eyes.
“It’s haunted as fuck.”
Liam was speechless.
Jackson came down the stairs wiping his hair with a towel. He was barefoot and wearing sweatpants that sagged. They were too big for Merle—they must have belonged to the previous owner of the house.
“You talk him into it?” Jackson asked.
“Hey, Pop,” Merle said, tilting his chin at his father.
Liam saw respect in the gesture, and he had seen love in the way that they had played with the hose outside. He wondered why Jackson thought that Merle was angry with him. Jackson stepped around Liam and went to sit on the bench next to his son. Merle looked just like his mother, but his mannerisms were perfect copies of way that Jackson moved. They were sitting close enough that their shoulders were nearly touching. Both men reached up and rubbed their noses at the same time. They were looking at Liam.
“He, uh,” Liam said, pausing to clear his throat. “He says that he knows a good bunker, but that it is haunted.”
Merle nodded.
“What kind?”
Merle shrugged.
“Like, spirits? Demons? Poltergeists? Manifestations? What happened?” Jackson asked.
Merle shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Wait, so is this why you wouldn’t tell me where this place was?” Jackson asked. “Is that the place where you got that special fuel?”
“It’s not the fuel—it’s an additive,” Merle said. “You add it to gas or diesel. It’s crazy—either works.”
“Whatever. So, is that the place or not?”
Merle looked at Liam and then back to his dad before he lowered his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Well, shit, let’s go. You don’t have to go inside. You can just take us there and me and Liam will check it out.”
“No, Pop. I don’t want to go near the place, and I don’t want you to go in there either.”
“Well, get over it,” Jackson said as he clapped his son on the back. “This is important, boy. Let’s roll.”
“Nope.”
The hard look in Merle’s eyes suggested that there was no point in negotiation or argument on the subject.
Liam knew that this was why he was along. Just as Jackson had said, it came down to trust. His parenting style with Merle had been all about shortcuts. If he had to take a bandaid off of the child, Jackson would just swear up and down that it wouldn’t hurt. Then, when Merle would cry about the sting, Jackson would simply try to distract him again.
“It’s going to be okay, Merle, I promise you,” Jackson said.
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Liam could see all the bad memories of shattered promises crossing behind Merle’s eyes.
“Come on,” Jackson said, sliding down from the bench. He tugged on his son’s sleeve as he hitched up the sweatpants. “I need to find some decent clothes, but that can wait.”
“No, Pop. I said I’m not going back there. You say it will be okay, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re impossible,” Jackson said, shaking his head.
“Stop,” Liam said. They didn’t listen to him. Instead, they were falling right back into the same fight.
“Stop!” Liam said, almost shouting.
Merle and Jackson finally quit arguing and looked at him.
“Listen, Merle, it’s not going to be okay. You may be right—the bunker might be dangerous, and you certainly know better than either of us whether it is or not. But the simple truth is that there are really smart people who believe that we have to risk it. You survived once—take us there so we can figure out if the problems with the bunker are things that we can deal with, okay?”
Merle thought about it for a long moment and finally took in a deep breath.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“See?” Jackson said. “I told…”
Liam managed to shut him up with a stern look.
They rode together in Merle’s truck. It was casually hidden under some brush behind the house and it was even bigger than Jackson’s tank. Liam had to grab ahold of the seat and the handle just to hoist himself up. Once inside, he sat in the middle of the bench seat as Jackson and Merle sandwiched him in. It felt almost like the one time that Tim had convinced him to ride in the airplane. They were so high up that the ground beneath them barely seemed like a part of the journey. The truck floated on its massive suspension.
“What’s your range with this thing?” Jackson asked. “Are we going to have to stop for gas.”
In response, Merle hooked a thumb over his shoulder. Liam turned and saw what the young man was pointing at. In the bed of the truck, an enormous plastic tank was mounted. They could see the green liquid sloshing around as they drove.
“Merle, is that all diesel?” Jackson asked.
“Actually, it’s that treated fuel. Works like diesel though. It explodes like crazy, too.”
“You’re crazy,” Jackson said, laughing. He reached past Liam to slap Merle’s leg.
“Maybe we should switch back to your truck, Jackson?” Liam asked. It seemed like they were barreling through the woods on what was basically a giant bomb.
Neither father nor son addressed the question. The dirt road petered out and they were rolling across a patch of sparse forest, steering between the bigger trees and simply running over the smaller ones. The truck ran right toward an old stone wall. Bouncing off the rocks, they launched briefly into the air. Jackson was looking casually through his window. Merle barely seemed to pay attention to the next rock that sent them aloft. Liam was left to sit in silence, sweating. All his muscles were tensed each time the landscape fell away and the truck’s engine whined. When they landed again, Liam took a quick breath and waited for the inevitable.
Merle made a sharp turn and they were on pavement.
“Are you headed up toward the river where we found that jet ski?” Jackson asked.
“Yeah. The bunker is north of there, buried under a little town.”
“How are you going to cross? The bridge is out.”
“I never use that bridge. Downstream from where the bridge used to be, there’s a spot.”
Jackson was shaking his head. “Won’t work. That’s where I was just at a couple of days ago. Engines overheat there.”
“Yeah, I know. I ran into that same problem a while ago. You can go around it.”
“Around it?”
Merle nodded.
“What are you guys talking about?” Liam asked.
“Don’t sweat it,” Jackson said.
Sweating was the only thing that Liam seemed capable of doing.
The river crossing nearly killed Liam. He could feel his heart beating so hard that it threatened to close his airways. Lightheaded and with his eyes squeezed shut, he felt the truck leave the ground and then touch down on the other side. There had been parts of a bridge, but a large
gap in the middle that Merle crossed with a combination of speed and stupidity. Jackson yelled his approval as they screeched to a stop on the other side.
“You can open your eyes now,” Merle said, tapping Liam’s shoulder.
“No, thank you. I’ll open them again when we’re stopped.”
“Fair enough.”
Liam kept his word, not daring to look as they ripped through the countryside in what was described as a, “Big loop around the shitty part.”
When the engine shut off, the headlights cut tight beams across a grassy field. Merle flipped a switch on the dash and floodlights gave them an even better view of the hay.
“Where is it?” Jackson asked.
“I’ll show you.”
The men climbed down either side of the truck, leaving Liam alone until he scurried after. It wasn’t fear that drove him out into the night. He was actually excited by the prospect of getting underground, as unlikely as it seemed based on the empty field in front of them.
“Are you sure?” Jackson called as he walked through the tall grass.
“Yeah. Of course I’m sure,” Merle said. He strode past his father, stopped, and then took a sharp left before walking confidently in that direction.
Liam caught up with Jackson.
“He’s not sure,” Jackson said, leaning close to Liam.
“I am too,” Merle called.
They stood in the beam of the headlights, watching Merle pace back and forth. The young man started to run from place to place, like Prince used to do when his ball was caught under the couch. The dog’s optimism always made him believe that the ball would pop out the other side. That’s the way Merle looked. Even though he had just searched an area seconds before, he would run back to it like he had missed something.
“Corinna and I found a bunch of Hawaiian Government guys on the other side of that hill down in the town. If Merle is right, they might have come out of the bunker that he was talking about.”
“Of course I’m right,” Merle shouted. He walked slowly and stood in front of them, squinting at the light coming off the truck. “Who do you think put those government guys there? There’s an exit through the wall of the overpass. I would take you back in that way, but the door sealed shut behind me last time I went out.”
