by Roger Hayden
She gripped the laptop tightly in her arms. It was Bryant, she felt, who was the criminal. Though she hadn't pieced everything together yet, having no way to do so, there was something nefarious about what she had read on his laptop. Given what she read, she had only touched the surface of a potential conspiracy responsible for the deaths of millions of Americans. Just saying the word millions made her sick to her stomach. "Oh my God," she kept saying. It was hard to even attempt to fathom it.
At last, Samantha came to the end of the corridor. The wall had bars that led to the top. It looked to be the only way out. She set Bryant's laptop on the ground and hoisted herself up the bars, step by step. She climbed the ladder twenty feet to reach a closed steel dome. Her eyes had adjusted only so well to the darkness, but she could make out its enclosed surface. She struggled to push it open, and wasn't surprised to see that it wouldn't budge. She heaved with all her might only to find that lid immovable. Her head touched the surface of the dome and bumped against a thick iron lever.
"Son of a bitch!" she said, holding the top of her pounding head. She nearly lost balance and feel completely off the ladder, but managed to hold on instinctively. Frustration, anger, fear, and pain culminated throughout her body from head to toe. Her attempt to escape felt hopeless, though she had come a long way.
Samantha took a minute to regain her strength. The lever presented another option. She placed one hand on its handle and pushed it clockwise. She was met with immediate resistance and pulled it counterclockwise as a result. The lever turned slightly after much force.
"This is it!" Samantha thought.
She gripped the bar on the ladder tightly with one hand, and grabbed hold of the dome lever with the other. She pulled and pulled until the lever eventually moved one complete rotation. A clicking noise sounded, similar to what she had heard from the bunker door. She pushed the dome with her free hand pushing it slightly opened. Its weight was remarkable and she feared it might come crashing down on her if she failed to hold it open.
"Open damn you!" she shouted in frustration.
The lid slowly moved and sprung open to release the cool, night air into the hole. Samantha almost slipped off the bars again, but caught herself just in time. The fresh oxygen was glorious to take in. She climbed a step further, peeked her head above the dome, and breathed in deeply. Her newfound freedom was a rush, and at the moment she had no fear of what was outside. She could feel Paul and Julie right around the corner, as if they were going to greet her at any moment. Samantha looked around. All she could see was an empty runway. Where in the hell was she?
Suddenly, she remembered the laptop, which was fortunate, because she had been ready to run.
One trip down the ladder, then back up, and Samantha soon found herself in virtual freedom. She fell onto the cement pavement underneath her and rejoiced in the night air. Before she could get too comfortable, however, there was the matter of finding out where she was.
"We're in a bunker under the Denver airport," Senator Bryant had told her.
From the looks of the runway there was no doubt that she was at some type of airport. There were numbered gates a half mile from where she stood. Some were empty; others had planes parked at them. There was no movement. The place looked as if it had been shut down. The closest thing in view was a single lone one-story white building where she could see lights through the windows.
Samantha looked to the opened lid behind her. It was best to close it as to limit any pursuit from Bryant and the other. The mere thought of going back in the bunker pushed her further. She closed the lid and rotated the outside lever clockwise as to seal it shut. There was no time to take in anymore of her surroundings, she had to move. There was an air traffic controller tower on her other side, at the end of the runway. It looked unoccupied, possibly barred up and locked. She wanted to get as far away from the airport as possible, onto a main road, to a gas station to find a phone, or back to her hotel room. She wished she had never left the Marriott in the first place.
"Too late for second-guesses, Samantha," she thought. "Just get out of here and find Paul and Julie."
Samantha moved briskly down the runway towards the airport, looking for a way out. Ten feet away, a large spotlight suddenly flashed directly on her.
"Stop right there!" a voice said.
Samantha froze, and squinted into the light.
"What is it?" she asked. "What do you want?"
The man moved the light off of her and stepped out from his golf cart. He approached Samantha cautiously, with one hand on the butt of his pistol and the other brandishing a long steel flashlight. He looked like a police officer, but was in fact, an airport security guard.
"I'll ask the questions around here," he said, moving closer to Samantha.
She wrapped her arms tightly around Bryant's laptop, prepared to run if she had to, but where?
"Who are you and what are you doing out here? This is a restricted area," the man said.
Temporarily frozen, Samantha thought to herself, then answered.
"I'm just trying to get out of here. Can you help me?"
The security guard took a step back.
"Oh no, no. This is a restricted area. No one is supposed to be anywhere within the proximity of this airport. I need to know what your business is out here, walking along the runway."
Samantha rubbed her head.
"I just got lost. All the commotion and everything. My car broke down, and I must have wandered out here. Please, I just want to leave."
"Ma'am, why don't you come with me and we'll straighten this whole thing out," he suggested.
"I really don't have the time; I need to go, please. I'm not harming anyone."
"I'm sorry; I can't allow you to go any further. Let's just run your background, see who you are, and if your story checks out, you'll be free to go."
Samantha had no choice but to follow the guard back to his golf cart. There was nowhere to run and she didn't need to attract unwanted attention. Bryant would be looking for her soon. It seemed possible that if she just went with the guard and had a plausible story, he would let her go. It was a setback. "A major setback," Samantha thought as she rode with the guard to the lone security office.
"Where is everyone?" Samantha asked, as they entered the building.
"The airport has been shut down indefinitely due to risk of a terrorist attack."
"If that's true, aren't you afraid to be here?" Samantha asked.
"Not really. Why would they waste all the effort on little ol' me?" he asked.
The guard had a point. Samantha took a seat in a long line of chairs in front of the counter. It looked like some type of office where they issue badges and ID cards. Bright long bulbs radiated overheard. The place had power. Samantha's eyes lit up when she noticed a phone resting on the counter next to a bottle of pens. Over the counter there was a station with several small black and white security screens aligned in three columns. The guard walked behind his counter and grabbed a handheld radio.
"This is Wells. I got a female civilian in custody now, found her walking down the runway."
His report frightened Samantha. Who was he talking to? Perhaps the transmission was going directly to Senator Bryant. Had this guard any idea about the underground bunker? Was he protecting Bryant's group? Samantha felt trapped, along with an insatiable urge to escape. She had gone too far to give up.
Chatter came back over his radio to which he nodded. He set down the radio, took off his hat, and let out a big sigh while looking over Samantha.
"You got any ID on you?" he asked.
Samantha shook her head in disappointment.
"I lost it," she said. "When everything went south."
The guard scratched his head.
"Hmm," he said. "So what's your name?"
The guard grabbed a clipboard with a pink information form on it. He held a pen over the paper awaiting Samantha's answer.
"My name is Samantha," she said. "Samantha Thomps
on."
She felt that there was no sense in providing a fake name or being dishonest. It could possibly prolong her stay even longer.
"So what are you doing here, Samantha?" he asked.
She mentioned nothing about the underground bunker. Her story was brief and simple.
"I ran out of gas outside the airport, I was looking for a place where I could get some fuel. It got dark out and I got lost. That's pretty much it," she said.
"And what kind of car you drive?" the guard asked, scribbling over the form.
"A 2011 Chevy Tahoe," Samantha said, without hesitation.
"Okay. Now before we go on, let me look you up in our system here," he said turning towards the security station.
"Sir, if you don't mind, I want to ask if you know anything about what's been going on out there. I haven't heard much," Samantha said, walking towards the counter.
What she had heard came directly from Senator Bryant. He had told her of the nuclear strikes, the obliteration of Washington D.C., the lack of food and power. He described a world in which the very air was poisonous to breathe. A world that was uninhabitable. Much of what he said turned out to be an exaggeration the minute Samantha emerged from the bunker. But how bad off was everything else?
"It's not a pretty sight ma'am. World War Three is on the way. States on the East Coast took it bad. Terrorists say there's more and that they could strike anywhere at any time. Everyone is in a panic. Governor declared martial law. Like I said, not a pretty sight."
Samantha sunk onto the counter in defeat with her arms crossed over the surface. She placed her head down and sulked.
"But how do you have power?" she asked, raising her head up.
The guard turned around in his swivel chair to face her.
"They got the power back on line after a few weeks. It was out for a while. Part of a national grid shut down."
"But it doesn't make any sense. How did they do this?" Samantha asked herself.
"Excuse me?" the guard asked.
"Nothing," Samantha said. "I just wanted to believe that things weren't as bad as they were saying."
The guard began to type Samantha's information onto his keyboard when he noticed some movement on one of the security screens. Two figures moved past the screen, then onto the other. They came from the direction of the airport and we're approaching his building.
He tossed the clipboard down on the desk and jumped up from his chair. Samantha perked up after his sudden movement. She wasn't sure the reason for his scrambling. The guard grabbed his handheld and spoke into it.
"I got two unidentified persons coming this way, requesting immediate backup," he sounded.
He looked closer into the screen and could see a man and a little girl walking along as if they hadn't a care in the world. From her vantage point, Samantha couldn't tell who the figures were at all. The guard turned to Samantha and pointed a finger at her.
"You stay right in your chair; I need to go bring those two in here. Don't even think about running," he said grabbing his hat and flashlight.
Before Samantha could say a thing, he was out the door, locking it behind him. She remained standing, looking for any way out. But if she escaped the building, then what? He would probably just track her down. She took a step past the counter than back to the other side. Her mind was racing; she couldn't make up her mind. Senator Bryant. Escape. The police. Conspiracy. Nuclear war. Paul. Julie. Home. She took a few steps back and fell into her chair, exhausted. She was tired of running and tired of thinking.
"Can I help the two of you?" the guard said, stopping Paul and Julie dead in their tracks.
His light shined onto Paul's face then Julie's. They both covered their eyes and squinted in response.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry. I'm a United States Congressman, Paul Thompson. I'm looking for certain persons so that I can relay important information."
Julie looked at Paul in wonderment. She was surprised that he had gotten so into it. He even deepened his voice while speaking with a different inflection.
"Just don't overdo it," Julie thought.
"Congressman, as you should know, this is a restricted area. Who is it that you're looking for?" the guard asked suspiciously.
"What's your name, sir?" Paul asked, trying to sound affluent.
"My name is Robert Wells, I'm with airport security. I assume this young lady is your daughter."
"Yes--" Paul began.
"Yes, my name is Julie Thompson," Julie responded in an airy voice.
"The man I'm looking for may or may not have already passed through, but you probably know him very well. His name is Senator Jeff Bryant."
The guard went silent and stared both Paul and Julie up and down. Paul felt like he might have made a mistake.
"Mr. Wells?" Paul asked. "Is everything okay?"
Wells narrowed his eyes.
"I think you need to come with me," he said with a serious tone.
Paul and Julie looked at each other.
"Okay..." Paul said, drawing the word out. "I guess we can do that."
They followed Wells back to the security building not prepared in any way for the surprise that awaited them inside.
Samantha sat with her head down and hair hanging in her eyes thinking of a way to escape. The only viable option seemed to be to run as far away from the airport as she could. There was only one guard and he was a little heavyset. If he didn't have his golf cart she felt that he could easily be outran. She was running out of time. There was no doubt in her mind that Senator Bryant had started the search for her. She couldn't imagine going back with Bryant and his strange assortment of guests. Maybe she could consul in Wells, the security guard. Was he aware that there were people staying below? He had to be. He probably worked for them. She had the laptop, which was her collateral. She could tell the guard everything and maybe he would help. Senator Bryant was not who he seemed, that much Samantha knew. If she could convince others of his actions and the seemingly criminal and treasonous scheme documented on his laptop, she could cut through the lies and get to the truth of what was actually happening around the country.
Suddenly, the airport guard, Wells, entered the room talking. Samantha looked to the ground, scared to death that Senator Bryant had found her.
"I'm not saying I don't believe you, sir, it's just unusual that any such person looking for Senator Bryant would arrive unannounced. I'll have to call contact him first and get verification," Bryant said.
"Yes, I understand," Paul said with a tinge of uncertainty.
He tried his best to conceal any panic and to follow through with their plan.
Samantha remained in her seat looking at the ground. Her hair hung down on both sides, blocking any view of her features. She faintly recognized the voice speaking to the guard. Paul, Julie, and Wells made their way to the counter.
"Wait one minute, and have a seat while I check in with the Senator," Wells said.
"No problem, thank you," Paul said.
Samantha's heart raced with the mention of Senator Bryant. It was time to run and damn the consequences.
Julie turned to examine the woman sitting in the line of chairs behind them. She looked exhausted and nervous. Her hair swayed as her head sunk lower and lower. Paul watched the guard carefully as the man picked up the phone. The security monitors glowed behind him. On one of the monitors Paul could see him and Julie and a tired looking woman sitting behind them. A strange sensation jolted through him. He knew the woman.
Paul twirled around and studied her. Her hands gripped the sides of her chair as she tried to control her breathing. Paul felt like he had walked into a dream. Julie noticed the intense focus Paul showed towards the vagrant woman when, all of a sudden, she was filled with the same kinetic energy.
Julie turned to the woman as Paul grew closer. The guard pushed some buttons on the phone and waited. Samantha could feel that she was being watched. She slowly lifted her head to see who was standing before her. If they were fr
iends of Senator Bryant, she was more than likely finished. As the two figures came into focus, she saw not two of Bryant's goons, but a man and a child. Samantha stared in absolute wonder. She felt an electric tinge on the back of her neck that traveled downward. Julie and Paul stared back in similar disbelief.
"M-mom?" she asked.
Samantha gasped and put her hand over her mouth.
"JULIE!" she shouted, falling to her knees. She grabbed Julie and pulled her in with such force, that the girl nearly fell over.
"Oh my God, is it really you?" Samantha asked, sobbing.
Paul stood overhead staring blankly at the strange sight before him.
"Samantha? Samantha. Holy shit, Samantha!" Paul said.
The guard suspiciously took notice of their heightened embrace, still waiting for someone to answer the secure line on the other end.
Samantha rose from the ground with Julie attached to her waist. She looked at Paul and screamed as tears flowed like water.
"PAUL! I don't believe it," she said.
Paul nearly tripped running to Samantha. They threw their arms around each other and hugged while a floodgate of tears flowed from their exasperated eyes. Julie squeezed herself from between them as Paul placed his hands on Samantha's face and kissed her.
"It's you," he said. "I knew we would find you. I fucking knew it!"
They kissed again as the guard curiously peered over the counter.
"You guys know each other?" he asked, holding the phone.
"Yes," Paul said turning around. "This is my wife."
The guard looked at them with true suspicion.
"Your wife?" he asked.
"Yes," Paul said, remembering that Wells was on the phone. "I don't think it's necessary to call Senator Bryant now. I think we'll just be heading back."
Samantha grabbed Paul's arm and pulled him closer.
"Don't let him make that call," she said with deep conviction. "We're in serious danger."
