by Kyle West
“I’m not pretending to know all the answers,” Samuel said. “I really do believe that the xenovirus could take over the world. The Blights have grown for all our whole lives with no sign of abatement. I fear that it could engulf the entire planet if no one does anything.”
“So,” I said, “we’re the heroes, now?”
“I can’t do this alone, Alex,” Samuel said. “If not us, who will?”
I paused. I just wanted to be in a town with plenty of food and safety. I was tired of this running around. But this xenovirus had already ended both Bunkers in California. We were down to two, now, and I didn’t even know where those were.
How long before entire towns were leveled? And who in the world, besides us, knew about the true threat the xenovirus posed? Both research facilities were gone, now. Maybe they had been the only two left in the world.
“This… could be nothing,” Makara said. “Do you really want to risk our lives traveling one thousand miles across the desert and mountains with winter coming on, especially when there is no guarantee that the Black Files will contain useful information? And, need I remind you, at the time of year when raiders are returning to Bluff?”
“Yes. We have to take that chance, because no one else will.”
Makara folded her arms and scowled. She didn’t like this, and I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t sure I liked it, either. But I could see Samuel’s point. If we could find a cure for this thing, wouldn’t it be worth all that trouble?
Makara cast me a worried look. I wondered what she was thinking.
“Return with us to Oasis, Samuel,” Makara said. “We can wait out the worst of the winter behind walls. Then, when spring comes, we can go.”
Samuel frowned. He did not like that idea.
“That takes too much time,” he said. “Besides, Ohlan is a weasel and I do not trust him.”
“No argument there,” I said.
“So, what do we do?” Makara asked.
“If neither of you can go,” Samuel said, “then you may return to Oasis. I will head to Cheyenne alone.”
Makara shook her head. “No.”
A thousand questions crossed my mind. Was I going to Colorado? How would we find it? Where would we find food? How would we survive the winter? How would we even escape Bunker 114?
“First, let’s talk about getting out of here,” I said. “The rest is details if we end up dying in this place.”
“I agree,” Samuel said. “Sometimes, I think too far ahead.”
Makara leaned forward. “So, how do we get to the motor pool?”
“We have to leave this section of the Bunker,” Samuel said. “Travel the corridors, until we reach the elevators. They’re located in the power plant. Large reactors take up the entire floor, and there’s a bridge we can take over them. Obviously, the elevators won’t work, but we can climb the shaft until we reach the Nest, near the peak of Cold Mountain. The Nest was actually the main entrance to Bunker 114 when the first refugees came in, but the area has been closed off now for a long time. However, the motor pool is there. There is access to a mountain road that, with luck, will not be buried by rock, sand, and snow. Even so, the Recon should handle it.”
“How do we know the Recons still work?” Makara asked.
“They’re too valuable an asset for 114 to have let them fall into disrepair. They will be running fine.”
“I hope so,” Makara said.
“The only part that worries me is getting past Kari,” Samuel said.
I gave a short laugh. “At least you’re just worried. It kind of takes my ‘absolutely terrified’ down a notch.”
“Seriously,” Makara said. “How do we get past a monster that leveled an entire Bunker?”
“The best idea is not to fight,” Samuel said. “Infected creatures, whatever they are, only move when given a reason. Loud noises will only attract more of them.”
“And just how do we kill something that big without guns?” Makara asked.
“If it comes down to it, we’ll shoot,” Samuel said. “They fall just like we do. They might have a great deal more pain tolerance. A sure way is to go for the head.”
“So if we have to fight this thing,” I said. “Aim for the head?”
Samuel nodded. “If we do this right, we shouldn’t have to even fight. All the same, it pays to be prepared.
“What else do I need to know?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just follow my lead. Thankfully, we’re in the dorms, so there will be plenty of supplies – everything we will need in the future. Warm clothing, food, and spare ammunition are a must. Colorado is a long way, and I don’t mean to die on the journey.”
“Good,” Makara said. “Let’s suit up, then.”
* * *
Samuel returned us our old packs. I’d almost forgotten about them. All that ammunition, and of course the batts, would be useful later.
We went through the rooms, Makara listing all the things we would need on the road: cold weather gear, food, extra weapons. In the dorms there were plenty of clothes. I found a heavy desert camo jacket, a beanie, gloves, and thermal underwear. If it was already this cold, it was hard to imagine what winter would be like in a couple months.
Whatever room was left over we filled with food and ammunition. I carried the food, Makara the ammunition. Samuel had miscellaneous supplies: a handheld radio, a lighter, a small stove, among other things we would need upside. He easily carried the most of all of us, but he was also the strongest.
I found myself a long, serrated combat knife. It attached right on my belt, opposite of my Beretta. I also grabbed a few extra boxes of 9mm rounds.
All packed, we met in front of the vault door that was the entrance to the dormitories. Everything felt heavy on my shoulders.
“Alright,” Samuel said. “I’m opening the door.”
I felt a chill pass over me. When Makara got out her knife, I took mine out also.
I held my breath as Samuel turned the wheel that would unlock the door. Makara’s face was calm, ready. I wondered how she could be so cool and collected.
The door creaked open, echoing in the outside corridor. Unlike where we stood, where it was light and ordered, the outside was dark and chaotic. Loose papers, broken electronics, and snapped lines all littered the corridor. Blood stained the walls and streaked the floors. A rotten musk hung in the air. Ahead of us, the corridor angled ninety degrees to the right. A painted, yellow arrow pointed, saying “Exit.”
“Follow me,” Samuel said. “And stay quiet.”
Samuel walked out, and we followed him.
We rounded the corner, and Makara’s flashlight clicked on. It looked like we were at the scene of a grisly murder. There was blood everywhere – the walls, the floor, the doors. It was as if the creature had consciously painted everything red to mark its territory. In the corners grew tufts of pink fungus.
It was quiet, and cold. There was a deadening of sound, and our footsteps did not echo but stopped at the walls.
We walked for several minutes until we came to an intersection. A rush of cold wind blew through the deserted corridor. From where it came, I could not tell. But it was not natural.
Samuel held his hand up, indicating us to hang back. We did so, and he crept up to the crossroads. He stood in the middle of it for a moment. Then something massive rushed past in a blur. It snatched Samuel as it scuttled past on multiple legs. Samuel grunted, and was gone from sight.
“Samuel!” Makara yelled.
She ran into the darkness. I was right behind her. We turned in the direction Samuel had been taken.
But the hallway was empty.
I pointed to the floor. A trail of a clear liquid led to an open doorway on our right. It looked like he had been dragged in.
Makara ran, and I followed her. I held my gun in front of me.
We had entered a common area. A pool table sat in front of us, and a large television screen, shattered, sat in the corner. Makara shot the flashlight
beam around the room.
The wind blew again, chilling me to the bone. I spun around, but there was nothing but darkness.
“This way,” Makara said.
I followed Makara across glass spread across the floor. It crunched under our boots. The walls were colored pink with fungus. In a far, dark corner of the room, I could see the outlines of the couch. And on the couch, a body.
Makara and I ran up to it. It was Samuel, his body was wrapped in a thin, white coating of…something.
Samuel!” Makara hissed.
“What happened?” I asked. “Where is that thing?”
Samuel stared past us, at the ceiling. The floor below us darkened. I felt the cold wind, close, tickling the back of my neck from above.
I looked up to see an enormous spider.
Makara screamed.
As I aimed my Beretta, the thing opened its mouth, revealing a long stinger that was curved and bladelike. From the end, poison dripped. It screeched as it swiped it at me. I dodged just in time.
At the same time, a hairy, muscular leg clobbered me. The force was so great that I fell and rolled to the other side of the room, where I hit the wall.
I struggled to get up. The arachnid was huge, standing on eight legs, each one the height of a person. It was covered with sticky, pink flesh. A pool of slime collected beneath its body, dripping from its mouth, its fangs, its many white eyes. Two large, serrated pincers opened and closed, longing for a taste of either of us. And the blade, set in its mouth, was cruel and pointed, flexing back and forth.
With me out of the way, the creature knocked Makara to the ground. It moved over her, its fangs opening, sharp blade arching back.
I got up, doing my best to hold my gun steady. I started shooting.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
The shots reverberated in the room, deafening me. The creature squealed. I had hit it on its side, but it hardly made a dent – purple liquid oozed out, running down its leg. It shook itself, and then turned to face me. It scuttled toward me, its pincers chomping open and closed.
I shot again, hitting it in an eye. It screamed in pain – on its breath I could smell the rot of other victims. Still, it crawled closer, just feet away.
I shot, over and over, right into its face. When it opened its pincers, I could see inside its mouth. I shot it there.
The spider went rigid. I jumped out of the way and continued to shoot, aiming at the head. The hideous creature crawled on its belly toward me. Finally, the magazine was empty. I wouldn’t even have time to switch it out. The thing was only feet away.
I got out my knife, stabbing into the thing’s head, over and over. It shuddered, then lay down on the ground, dead. I retrieved my knife. It was coated in pink slime.
I wiped it on some nearby furniture and ran to Makara, who was lying on the floor. I knelt beside her, and shook her by the shoulders.
“Makara! Makara!”
Her eyes opened.
I looked all over her body, but could see no wound.
“Can you stand?”
“I’m…I’m fine. I just…do not care for spiders.”
She began to sit up, and crawled to the couch where Samuel was. I helped her over to him.
“Makara,” he said.
“Samuel, you idiot, why did you go ahead? What were you thinking?”
Samuel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I saw something and didn’t want to risk everyone.” He struggled to move. “Can you get me out of this damn thing?”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Spider silk,” Makara said. “Luckily it isn’t too thick. It shouldn’t take long to pull off.”
For the next few minutes, we cut and tore at the spider thread. Soon, Samuel burst out and stood next to us, and began to pull the icky stuff off his clothes.
“I’m glad it didn’t bite me,” he said. “I would have been toast. I would have never imagined such a thing could grow to that size.”
“What else is in this place?” Makara asked.
“I don’t know, but we’re not staying to find out,” Samuel said. “Kari is still somewhere in here. We’re leaving.”
Chapter 22
Before leaving the room, I switched out my Beretta’s magazine. I had a feeling I would be using it before long.
“Go left here,” Samuel said.
We turned. This entire side of the Bunker had been completely taken over by the xenovirus. The floor was carpeted in pink and purple fungus and strange stalactites hung from the ceiling, dripping slimy liquid. We did our best to avoid them.
We turned into a long hallway, and my breath caught. We were in a gigantic chamber, standing on a metal bridge spanning darkness. Below, I could see shapes of large machines, now dark and defunct. These had been the nuclear reactors that had once powered the entire Bunker. They were offline, now – the dorms must have been running on a backup source of power. Above, two large streams of sunlight spilled in from holes in the high ceiling, casting spotlights on the floor below.
Across the bridge, I could see three sets of metal doors.
“The elevators are ahead,” Samuel said.
We started across the bridge, our footfalls echoing hard off the metal.
We were a third of the way across when a massive shape sailed through the air from one of the machines. It pummeled into the bridge right in front of us.
It was a giant humanoid, probably three times the height of a person. Sickly, pink flesh covered its entire body without a trace of hair. Long claws extended from its massive hands. Its eyes were narrow slits, white and glowing. Muscles bulged under sinewy skin, ready to inflict destruction. Bloody gashes, dripping purple goo, lashed up and down its body. Its reek made me feel like a tsunami of raw sewage was washing over me.
A low rumble sounded from its throat.
“Kari,” Samuel said.
Kari charged. Makara lifted her gun and fired, six times, but only hitting the monster’s muscular chest. All of them entered, but did nothing to slow her. Samuel also gave a few shots, but only managed to hit Kari’s shoulder.
I aimed my gun for the head.
Bam. Bam.
I missed twice. She was near, and took a swipe for my gun. It clattered to the grated metal floor and slid away, almost falling off the edge.
Makara worked to reload, but the beast had turned on her. Makara pulled out her knife and took a swing, her face grim. She made two deep slashes on Kari’s abdomen. The creature screamed, and slammed against Makara. Makara banged against the handrail, wincing in pain.
I got on the floor to get my gun. But somehow, Kari saw me. As she turned to go after me, Makara stabbed her in the leg.
Kari howled, the thick muscles under her thin skin flexing. Purple slime surged from her wounds. She swung her right arm in a wide arc, pummeling Makara on the shoulder. Makara dropped her gun, the force of the blow knocking her hard against the railing – so hard, that she was being pushed over the edge of it.
This time, she was going to fall.
“No!”
I ran forward, but Samuel got there first. He grabbed Makara’s hands, pulling her back. Kari roared, standing high on her legs. She raised her right arm, readying a swipe to finish them both.
I charged, going for Kari’s giant legs. My shoulder met the mass of flesh and muscle. On contact, Kari’s knees buckled and her knees slammed onto the bridge.
From both sides of the chasm, I could hear a foreboding creak.
“The bridge is going to fall!” I said.
Makara and I grabbed Samuel, running for the elevators.
We ran as fast as we could, Samuel loping along. Then, he started running, too, outpacing the both of us.
Then, the bridge began to fall. Samuel and Makara reached the landing in front of the elevators, but I felt the bridge falling from under me. Kari was just steps behind. Then, I jumped, sailing through the air. Makara reached out for me. Samuel grabbed Makara from the back. When I landed in Makara’s arms, she held on tight. We
were both anchored by Samuel lying on the ground, pushing his legs against one of the bridge posts.
Behind, I could hear Kari let out a horrible shriek that echoed throughout the chamber. I turned to see her flailing on the bridge, getting twisted in it. Then, there was a massive crash as the bridge hit the bottom floor.
We lay there for a while, catching our breaths. I couldn’t believe we were still alive.
Samuel stood, and walked toward the edge of the platform.
“She is at peace, now,” he said.
Samuel walked past us, to the elevator doors. With his powerful arms and shoulders, he forced them open. He went inside, and reached for the ceiling, opening the escape hatch.
After all we had been through, especially after surviving Kari, climbing the elevator shaft was easy. We took frequent breaks. I don’t know how high it was, but we were climbing the ladder for at least thirty minutes.
By the time we reached the top, I was sore. Samuel, from the top, was able to use his strength to push the doors open.
I was the last one up, and when I walked through the doors, I was met with a foyer lined with dust. The room was circular in shape, and a long, wide corridor sloping upward led out.
Makara shined her flashlight ahead.
“This is the Nest,” Samuel said. “The motor pool will be by the front entrance.”
The place, besides the dust, was surprisingly clean. Samuel was right; no one had been here in a long, long time. However, there was a thin trail running through the dust that led to a heavy side door. Some people had come through here.
“That’s the way in,” Samuel said. “Just a few minutes more, and we’ll be out of here.”
We were now in the front entry hall. I imagined what it must have been like, all those thirty years ago, when the panicked refugees had filed in; to go down those elevators, and never come back up.
We now stood in front of the door. There was a keycard slot next to it, but when Samuel tried the door, it opened right up.
We stepped into the motor pool. It was so dark that it was all Makara’s flashlight could do to illumine the place. The place smelled of oil and machinery. It reminded me of our own motor pool at Bunker 108.
