by Jordan Rivet
Chapter Ten
BEFORE
Joanna and the others were shielded from the worst apocalyptic mayhem in the final months of the old world. They’d seen a bit of chaos before their arrival at the school, of course, but there’d been less looting and disaster-movie madness than Joanna expected. The occasional riot broke out, and gun stores sold out their inventories within hours of the comet’s discovery, but things were still relatively calm when orientation began. Colonel Waters kept tight control of his perimeter as promised, and they remained protected as the comet tumbled closer.
Their busy schedule included instructions on BRP’s vision for the bunker communities. The forced isolation and the intensity of their situation made the experience almost like joining a commune—or a cult. The officials were cultlike in their promotion of the program’s ideals too. The most important tenet was community harmony.
“All of the program participants follow the same curriculum to help promote unity,” Dr. Huntington had explained during one such lesson. “Everyone will emerge in the future prepared to work together to rebuild our civilization. None of the bunkers will contain weapons, not even for hunting as we believe no mammals will survive the impact winter.”
“What if they mutate?” someone called from the back of the class.
A murmur spread through the room. “Yeah, there could be a radiation leak or something.”
Dr. Huntington’s lips thinned, as they did anytime someone suggested their future would be less than utopian. “I can assure you we’ve left a buffer of plenty of time for any radiation to clear. Based on the force with which the comet will strike, you needn’t worry about bears—mutated or otherwise—surviving the aftermath.”
The person in the back spoke up again. “But if the predictions are wrong—”
“Our state-of-the-art equipment will be able to judge the viability of human life with remarkable accuracy,” Dr. Huntington said.
Joanna raised her hand. “What will we do if it isn’t viable?”
“Isn’t viable?”
“If we use all that fancy gear and find out it’s not safe for us up here?”
“There won’t be enough cryo liquid left to go back under, right?” Chloe said, scribbling anxious calculations on her notepad.
Dr. Huntington cleared his throat. “Technically, that’s true.”
“We can’t reuse it?” Troy asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“So no sleeping until it’s all better, eh?” Vincent said.
Dr. Huntington tugged at his collar and shuffled around the printouts detailing the sophisticated equipment being installed above the bunker at that very moment. “We are confident that our predictions—”
“We’re screwed,” Ruby said. “Isn’t that right? We only have one shot at this, and if we’re wrong, we’ll either go up and die or live underground until we die?”
Dr. Huntington sighed. “That’s correct.”
“Glad that’s cleared up,” Troy said. “When’s lunch?”
A few people chuckled, and Dr. Huntington’s neck went bright red.
“Look here. We have carefully constructed our program so that everyone will emerge in safety and transition to an era of cooperation and peace in the future.” He stared around the classroom, daring them to question his vision. “We will have clean air. We will have no need for guns or any other weapons. The bunkers will operate under shared nonviolent principles both before and after the hibernation period.”
Despite Dr. Huntington’s fervency, the BRP officials weren’t always on the same page. Theresa Simmons and Colonel Waters shared—or rather wrestled over—leadership duties for their bunker cohort. Colonel Waters treated the school like a war zone, and he seemed to expect a struggle for resources the moment they emerged from cryosleep.
“We’ll be tribal at first,” Colonel Waters explained once when he and Theresa joined their exercise group on a run around the school. “Like cavemen. Survival of the fittest.”
“Except we’ll have . . . the wisdom . . . of modern society behind us,” Theresa panted, struggling to keep up with Waters. “We will not be starting from scratch.”
“Won’t matter in the jungle,” Waters said.
“I doubt we’ll awaken into a jungle,” Theresa said. “Our bunker will still be . . . in the Pacific Northwest . . . even after the impact winter.”
“We’ll see.” Waters threw a few air punches with his scarred fists as he ran. “Another lap, people, then hit the showers.”
Joanna was too sweaty and winded to ask Colonel Waters to elaborate on the “tribal” comment. She had already decided he was her least favorite BRP official, anyway. But uneasiness about what awaited them after their hibernation flourished under Waters’s paranoia and Dr. Huntington’s wild-eyed zeal. Even Theresa grew increasingly frazzled and nervous as the summer progressed.
Week by week, cracks began to appear in the program’s veneer. The snooty intake coordinator who’d signed Joanna in abandoned the program entirely, disappearing from his post at the front desk. After that, there were no more trips to the river or suggestions that they might be allowed to call their families before the end. The intake coordinator took all one thousand cell phones with him when he went.
They had no contact with the other BRP cohorts during orientation. The bunkers supposedly numbered at least two dozen in the continental United States alone, each community run by assorted military and civilian officials. When Joanna asked Colonel Waters why they couldn’t talk to the cohorts they’d have to work with in the future, he grumbled about security and marched away without another word. She had to wonder if all the bunker groups were sticking to the nonviolent program ideals as strictly as Dr. Huntington wanted them to in these desperate, chaotic times.
Though skeptical about the program, Joanna got along well with the rest of Blue Team Seven. They helped each other through the demanding survival lessons and workouts, ate at the same table, arranged pickup basketball games with other teams, and even claimed a specific tree in the courtyard as their official hangout. They had become a family, clinging to each more intensely after leaving their own families behind.
One afternoon, Joanna flopped down under their tree to wait for the others. She’d spent most of her free period before dinner trying to master a shear lashing that had given her trouble in wilderness survival class earlier that day. Eventually, she gave up and retreated to the sunny courtyard.
She lay flat on her back as green light filtered through the tree above and grass tickled the back of her neck. The weather had been unusually good since they arrived at the school. The sky was a blue soft enough to make her want to reach up and touch it. The perfect weather felt like the earth’s parting gift to humanity. Most people wouldn’t live to see winter, but at least they could enjoy one more idyllic summer.
September was drawing closer. Soon they would move to the secret bunker location and prepare for their descent into the earth. As the date neared, the people who hadn’t made it into the program were a physical presence pushing at the edge of Joanna’s mind. She felt unworthy of her spot in the bunker when so many had been left out. BRP was doing its best to distract them from such thoughts—and from asking too many questions, she’d noticed—but sometimes the doubts were inescapable.
Something tapped her shoe, and she lifted her head to find Garrett looking down at her. She sat up quickly, brushing the grass out of her hair, as he joined her beneath the tree.
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“Troy is teaching them how to fight over by the basketball court.”
“To fight? Seriously?”
“Just some simple wrestling,” Garrett said. “He was an all-state champ in high school.”
“They expect to use sport wrestling on mutant bears in the future?”
“That or the aliens.”
“Oh, right.” Joanna grinned. “I forgot about them.”
Chloe had shared a theory that extraterrestr
ial life forms had sent the comet to clear the planet for their own use. She suggested with some seriousness that they could wake up to find the earth already repopulated by a new species.
“Think there’s any chance Chloe’s alien theory will come true?” Joanna asked.
Garrett shrugged. “I gave up on guessing what would happen in the future a while back. This whole thing is so surreal.”
“I feel scared out of my mind if I think about it too much,” Joanna said. “You seem pretty calm.”
“That’s what happens when you have a bunch of younger brothers.” Garrett picked up a fallen leaf and turned it around in his hands. “They always think you’re in control. You go along with it enough, and eventually you start to believe it.”
“Well, you have me convinced,” Joanna said. She was sorry to see him grow somber, as he did whenever he mentioned his family. She nudged his arm. “It really does help. Imagine if Ruby were the first to arrive and she got the leader duty.”
A smile crept back onto Garrett’s face. “She’d be tougher on us than Blake and Colonel Waters put together.”
They both laughed, and Joanna took the opportunity to admire his features: strong forehead, straight nose, hazel-brown eyes. They’d been making flirtatious eye contact for weeks, but nothing more had happened between them. It was driving her crazy. Garrett’s maturity might be reassuring, but she did not want him to treat her like a kid sister.
For once, the rest of Blue Seven wasn’t around, and mere feet separated them. But neither moved to close the gap.
“Why aren’t you participating in the wrestling lesson?” Joanna asked when she realized it had been too long since either of them spoke.
“I don’t think we’ll be doing any fighting in the future,” Garrett said, “or at least I hope not.”
“Not even against mutant alien bears?”
“If I see one of those, I intend to run.”
Joanna laughed and shuffled a little closer, hoping to catch a hint of his fresh laundry scent.
“What about the other bunkers?” she said. “What if they don’t want to be friends after we wake up?”
“They’re learning the same protocol as us,” Garrett said. “We’re all on the same side. No reason to fight.”
“People don’t always follow protocol,” Joanna said. “The other day during our run, Colonel Waters was talking about this big survival-of-the-fittest free-for-all. He thinks we’ll end up dividing into tribes like it’s Lord of the Flies or something.”
Garrett twisted the leaf in his hands thoughtfully. Joanna followed the line from his strong hands up to his lips, which were full and warm looking. She had to remind herself to focus on whatever they’d been talking about. Tribal warfare. Right.
“If we have to hit the reset button,” he said at last, “the least we can do is make the world better the second time around.”
He reached over and tucked the leaf behind Joanna’s ear, his thumb brushing lightly over the curve of her cheek. Her pulse jumped, her thoughts racing. They were alone for once. Had he noticed her looking at his lips? She looked at them again. Stop it!
It was a terrible time to start something. They should wait until after their hibernation. They should be responsible bunker citizens, focusing on their preparation, their profound duty to preserve the human race, their solemn mandate to—
“Joanna?”
She started, and her eyes went to his lips again. “Yes?”
“I—”
At that moment, the others charged across the courtyard to join them, chattering like magpies.
Garrett sat back, giving her a faint smile. “Never mind.”
Joanna glared at her teammates. Couldn’t they have waited a few more seconds?
Troy led Vincent by the arm, looking particularly tall and gangly next to Vincent’s diminutive frame. Chloe skipped along beside them, more birdlike than usual in orange spandex leggings and a billowing blue top. Blake and Beth followed more slowly, still talking over the match.
“Who won?” Garrett asked.
“Vincent,” Blake said.
“Really?”
“He’s a scrappy fellow,” Troy said. “Didn’t expect him to take me down so quickly.” He tapped Vincent on the shoulder to indicate he could sit. The rest of the team joined him, sprawling on the grass around Joanna and Garrett.
They had been careful not to draw attention to Vincent’s need for guidance. They didn’t want people to know he technically wasn’t qualified for a berth in the cryo bunker. Whoever had been paid off to get him into the program could still have a change of heart. No matter their private thoughts about how he got into BRP, none would betray him now that he was in their crew.
“You do a quick intake of breath before you make a move,” Vincent said to Troy. “Also, I was my school’s judo champion. You’d have done better if you knew what you were up against.”
Troy snorted. “Now you tell me.”
“You were so fast,” Chloe said.
“It’s a good thing we won’t be fighting any zombies,” Vincent said. “My aim isn’t quite as good as my grappling.”
“It’s other survivors I’m worried about,” Blake said darkly. He sat on his heels, ready to spring into action at any moment. “What if the other bunkers wake up and decide they want to be in charge?”
Joanna and Garrett exchanged glances. Blake’s comment was eerily similar to their conversation of moments ago.
“Not much we can do about it now,” Garrett said. “We’ll take the challenges as they come.”
“That’s a copout, man,” Blake said. “We should prepare for the worst.”
Garrett frowned. “If we don’t stick to the program, how can we expect the others to?”
“Make ’em,” Blake said. “BRP should have a better chain of command, or at least a head bunker. They should have been more organized from the start.” He sized Garrett up, not bothering to hide the challenge in his eyes. “Assigned people with actual experience instead of randomly handing out leadership duties, for example.”
Garrett didn’t rise to the dig. “People tend to do better than they thought possible when faced with seemingly overwhelming obstacles. BRP is relying on our resilience. I want to prove their faith in us is warranted.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Sure you do, Blue Leader.”
Garrett didn’t respond, and an awkward silence spread between the two men. Vincent tipped his head to the side, as if listening to the spike in tension.
Troy cleared his throat. “I think we can all agree BRP could have done a lot of things better. They didn’t have much time.”
Blake snorted but shifted to a less aggressive stance. Troy was one of the only people in the whole cohort he seemed to respect.
“Isn’t it strange how quickly everything is counting down?” Beth said. “Feels like we just got here, but we’ll have to pack up and head to the bunker soon.”
“It’s better than sitting around for ages, worrying what will happen,” Joanna said. “Best to keep moving forward.”
“Well, I feel like I’m in a video stuck on fast forward,” Chloe said. “We’ve had no time to get used to the idea of the comet, much less come up with a solid theory about what the earth will be like after it strikes. Even BRP is just guessing.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to get used to it after cryosleep, when it won’t be theoretical,” Garrett said. “I agree this is happening fast, but at least we have a real chance at a future.” He slid his hand across the ground so that it rested on top of Joanna’s where the others couldn’t see. “And we won’t be alone.”
Chapter Eleven
Joanna climbed the mineshaft steadily, stopping at twenty-foot intervals to secure the rope. Multiple ladders had been extended deeper and deeper into the earth as the shaft was built. She didn’t trust the centuries-old metal, but the smooth mineshaft wall offered no other anchors. She needed to rest often, which made the journey excruciatingly slow.
&nbs
p; For hours she heard only the clunk of her feet on the rungs and the harsh hiss of her breath. The darkness encircled her, overwhelmed her. She carried the flashlight in her pack, switched off to conserve the batteries. She had left the extras behind to lighten her load.
Blisters formed on Joanna’s fingers as she climbed. Her muscles trembled, protesting each rung. The pickaxe banged steadily against her leg. At one point she thought about dropping it, but if the exit was blocked at the top of her long climb, she would need the heavy tool. Every time she wanted to give up, she told herself she hadn’t survived this long just to fall down an elevator shaft and die. She had to keep going.
As Joanna ascended through the darkness, she imagined her teammates following behind her. She pretended she was checking that the mineshaft was clear so they could join her. She pictured Chloe’s bright smile, Ruby’s sarcastic remarks, Troy’s easy laugh. Garrett would already be waiting at the top, of course. He always volunteered to go first, to make sure the way was safe.
He’s not here now. You have to make your own way.
Suddenly, Joanna’s foot slipped off the ladder. She seized the nearest rung, banging her elbows against the wall and her hip against the metal frame. She hung there for a moment, waiting for her heart to stop racing. Her arms shook. Sweat trickled down her forehead and dripped into the void.
When her pulse finally returned to normal, she took a deep breath and resumed her ascent. Time seemed slower in the mineshaft. She felt as if she were moving through gel, each step against gravity requiring more strength and more willpower than the one before it.
She paused to lash her rope to the ladder again, hoping she’d have enough to make it all the way up. She had a second rope in her pack for the pulley system she planned to create to lower herself down again. Her fingers trembled as she tied the knot. Garrett had taught her this one, yet another thing he’d learned as a Boy Scout.
She finished the knot and paused. Her labored breathing sounded unnatural in the empty mineshaft. She felt as if ghosts shared the space with her, whispering down her neck and tugging at her feet. She had to keep moving.
