Diary of the Displaced Box Set

by Glynn James

  I ran, scurrying across the twenty foot gap between the buildings as quickly as I could. I knew my handguns, even though they were shredders, may not even damage the Vigilants in their heavy armour, but the rifle, which I’d left back at the RoughRider, would cut through it no problem.

  I can’t believe I was even considering killing Vigilant soldiers.

  I reached the back of the garage compound and nearly ripped the door off its hinges as I rushed in. Then I panicked.

  They would have heard the noise.

  I ran for the RoughRider, knowing that seconds were all I had. Even as I pulled the rifle from the trunk, and slammed the clip into place, I heard the crack and thud of the side door. I hit the deck and rolled under the RoughRider. There was nothing else that I could use as cover, and I knew that the repair platform I had parked on had a gap underneath it that would normally be used by mechanics to get under the vehicles they were repairing. I had chosen the platform at the back of the repair hall, thinking that there, in the darker area of the building, the RoughRider was less easily spotted. It was dark and that corner had no windows.

  Usually the platform would be raised before going into the gap underneath, but I’d left the platform as it was, and all I could do as I rolled under there was hope that there was enough space to give me cover before the firing started. Their guns would probably tear the RoughRider to shreds, I thought, but if I was under cover, below, I might be able to get off some shots before they spotted me.

  But instead of dropping a couple of feet into the bottom of the pit, I rolled out into open space. I fell into darkness…and kept falling.

  Only the cables hanging underneath the platform stopped me from falling to my death. There were dozens of them hanging there, and as I fell, I became tangled in them. My rifle fell from my hands and I heard it clatter a few times in the darkness below.

  There were no shots fired, but the team of Vigilants still came. I heard their boots on the ground, heard them spreading out into the building, and heard their muffled voices, but not what they were saying.

  Eventually my eyes adjusted to the darkness under the platform, and I found that I was hanging maybe thirty feet underneath the Roughrider and the repair platform. Below me was complete darkness that, for all I knew, could be endless.

  I shifted my weight and slowly pulled my way across the cables to the side of the shaft, where I could just make out the studded outline of a set of ladder steps. I grabbed frantically at the ladder, which I could now see was built into the wall, and finally hung there in the darkness, not wanting to move as I listened to the troops above me. Someone tried to open the trunk of the RoughRider and couldn’t, but I knew that the locking mechanism wouldn’t keep them out for very long, and they weren’t going away.

  I couldn’t go back up and face them. It would all be over if I did that.

  My only choice was down.

  Three minutes later, down into the darkness of what appeared to be a wide shaft, I found the end of the ladder, but not the bottom of the shaft. I reached into a pouch on my utility belt and pulled out my maglight. I was easily two hundred feet below the platform, and figured that if the Vigilants hadn’t found the shaft then they were unlikely to see the light down here.

  I had to know how deep it was.

  And it was much deeper than I first thought.

  My torch shines quite a distance, maybe fifty feet, but even that didn’t illuminate the bottom of the shaft. It just seemed to go on and on.

  I couldn’t go down.

  And I didn’t want to go up.

  Then I started thinking about the grooves in the side of the wall, and the cables running down the middle of the shaft.

  It was a lift. The damn platform was a lift.

  This was the way down to the bunker. It had to be.

  If I could only figure out how to lower it.

  The cables only hung part of the way, but then I noticed that they wound back up again.

  That was it.

  The height of the lift was double the length of those cables, which meant…another few hundred feet into the darkness below what I could see. That jump would kill me. But, if I could trigger the mechanism, I could ride down.

  I climbed back up, slowing as I got to within thirty feet of the platform. From there, I could see two of the Vigilants were standing next to the platform, talking. I wasn’t going to be able to go up there and press the button that would lower the platform, so I looked underneath it. Holding onto the ladder, and edging upwards as quietly as possible, I traced where the wiring came out from the control panel.

  There, just to the right of the groove on the north face of the wall, was a cluster of wires that led to a bulky metal cabinet attached to the bottom of the platform.

  But it was right underneath where the Vigilants were standing, and the panel looked rusty. Any attempt to open it could alert them. So far, they hadn’t located me.

  I slowly edged my way across to the panel, cringing every time I made the slightest of sounds, but there was a lot of noise on the ground above me. I presume the rest of the Vigilant team was trashing the remainder of the building in their search for me. After what seemed like an age, but in reality was probably only a few seconds, I managed to prise open the panel. It squeaked a little as I opened the door, but I tried to time it with the noise from above, and then I hung there, waiting, watching the two soldiers above me, just a few feet away. But they didn’t move.

  I switched on my headlamp, being careful to point it only at the panel and not send some random flash of light up into the building that might alert them. But it was dark up there, and I felt my heart thumping again as the glow lit up the area underneath the Roughrider.

  The panel was thankfully quite a simple setup, with just a few input wires and another cable leading out and downwards, joining the other cables dangling in the darkness. That second one had to be the power source, I thought, and the cables leading up to the button panel above had to be both power and a switch signal. I had to make presumptions, not having the time to test, and went with the power cables being the same colour.

  With my hands shaking, I cut and released the switch wires, pulled off some of the plastic covering and tapped the solder joint where the wires should connect.

  There was a clicking noise, then a hum, and then the platform jumped to life, creaking as it began its descent.

  Shouts from above and boots thudded on the ground as more of the Vigilants rushed back to the join the two above, but the platform was dropping at an alarming rate.

  And I was on the underside.

  I couldn’t go above it. They would see me and start firing. So I stayed underneath, clinging to the cables and the underside of the platform, hoping to hell that there would be at least a small gap under the platform when it reached wherever it was going.

  And so I began to descend into the darkness.

  I could hear shouts from above, and the sound of boots upon the ladder, but so far no one had fired. If they wanted me dead, they could simply drop a grenade down into the shaft, but they hadn’t.

  They must want me alive.

  That was when something ricocheted off the wall just a few feet away. I hadn’t heard the snap of a gun go off, so it had to be silenced.

  But it was only the one shot.

  The platform continued to plummet down into the darkness, but then it jolted still, nearly sending me falling into the void below. Something clicked once more, and then the platform was heading back up.

  They had managed to rig the signal, just as I had done.

  I panicked, reached for the panel, and jabbed the wire at the point once more. Again the clicking noise, and the platform restarted its downward journey. A second later it ground to a halt and began going back up again.

  I had to fix the switch to stay. Not knowing how else to do it, I jabbed the wire into the point, pulled all the other wires out and waited, just hanging there in the dark as the lift jolted and moved downwards.
/>   Five seconds, then ten. It wasn’t going back up.

  Then I saw it below me.

  A platform jutted out of the side of the wall. Below that, the shaft continued on with no sign of it ending.

  I climbed across the underside of the platform, holding onto cables and jutting pieces of metal, until I reached the gap in the corner, where the ladder should have been, and waited. The lift platform didn’t slow down, but merely halted dead as it reached level with the section of ground jutting out into the shaft.

  And all was silent.

  I climbed up and jumped out onto the platform. In front of me, a wide corridor cut into the wall. There was no door, just the corridor leading into yet more darkness.

  And it was big enough to take the Roughrider.

  I hurried, jumping up into the cab of my vehicle, slamming the key into place and hitting the accelerator. The RoughRider leapt forward, sped down the short stretch of ramp and shot into the corridor. As I hit the ground, I glanced up at a flash of movement above. Half a dozen ropes were dropping out of the darkness, and with each rope came the zipping sound of a descending Vigilant.

  But the image was gone in seconds as I sped into the corridor, foot mashed down on the accelerator as far as it would go. I had barely inches either side of me, and every few yards I heard a screech as the wheels, or some other part of the trike, scraped against the walls. But I wasn’t slowing down. I didn’t have time. The Vigilants would be on the platform by now, or maybe even in the corridor, running after me.

  After maybe half a mile I saw it, racing up to meet me much faster than I could hit the brakes. All I could do was grab hold of the body frame, slam the brake on, and hope.

  The Roughrider crashed into the massive metal door with a force that nearly knocked me clean out of the vehicle, but I hit my shoulder on the frame and was forced backwards into the seat. I sat there for a few seconds, panting and grimacing at the pain that erupted in my right side, but then got to work.

  I had to get through this door, and shut it behind me, before the Vigilants got here or I would be cornered, trapped, and then captured.

  I hit the ground, nearly fell, staggered to the front of the vehicle, and squinted at the control panel next to the bunker door.

  Mum, I thought. I hope to hell you were right about the passkey. Because now, if ever, I need you to be right.

  The panel was similar to others I had seen, and I hit the activate entry button, and then waited for the digital keypad to appear on the screen.

  But nothing happened. Nothing, just a blank, black screen

  “Come on!” I shouted, much too loud. The shout echoed along the corridor and I turned, listening.

  The distant thud of boots on stone came back.

  They were coming. They would be here soon.

  Then the panel flickered to life, just as I was about shout out in frustration second time. It displayed a keypad that I was familiar with, the same display that was shown on many sealed doors used by the Resistance.

  Then my thoughts went back to what my mother had recorded.

  So, if it’s really you that finds this, Conman, and no one else, then you’ll be able to remember your Maw, and open the bunker door that I recoded. Do you remember?

  Of course I already knew the answer to this. I’d never forget the times we played Maw-tamer when I was little. Never.

  I keyed in the name of my own pretend Maw, the one that was always by my side when we played games back when I was a child.

  SilverSwift.

  And hoped.

  The word processing appeared on the screen.

  And then nothing happened. Had it frozen? Was the door faulty, after all these years?

  The sound of boots on the ground, maybe two hundred yards away, jerked me into action. I could wait there for the door to open, or I could be ready.

  I rushed around the back of the Roughrider, keyed in the lock code, flipped open the trunk, and grabbed at my stuff, hauling it round to the doors. If there was going to be a delay, I wanted to be ready.

  Two trips and I had a pile of my gear right at the entrance to the door, but still nothing had changed. I crouched as the footfalls grew louder. Any moment now, I knew that they would catch up with me. And in answer, in the distance, lights began to flicker across the walls.

  Then there was a click and a hiss, and the door began to open.

  But it was so slow.

  I waited until there was barely a foot of opening and grabbed some of my gear and threw it through the gap.

  “Halt or we fire!” came the voice from corridor.

  I jumped forward, squeezing through the door, grabbing the last bag that was outside and falling forward into darkness. Snaps of near-silent gunfire chattered behind me, and I felt, more than saw projectiles ricocheting off of the walls. Something hit my left arm, causing me to drop my gun, but I managed to reached up and tap the panel on the other side of the door. Beyond, and now around me, was complete darkness. There were no lights on the other side of the door and a musty, old, rank smell assaulted my nostrils.

  The panel flickered on and displayed a dozen different options, but I stabbed at Close and reached for my other gun.

  More gunfire, and several more sharp pains hit me, sending me sprawling to the ground. Lights flashed all around me. I grabbed at another gun, but found that my arm wouldn’t respond. I tried again, but then my legs gave way. The world spun, dizziness flooding my vision.

  Tranquillisers, I thought. They hit me with tranquillizers.

  Then all went dark.

  :: Record Date 27:06:4787 12:14

  They didn’t get me.

  Yes, they knocked me out. After I woke up, my head thumping, I managed to switch on my headlamp – which appears to be shattered but still working – and I found four different darts sticking out of me. Two in my arms, one in my leg, and another in my shoulder. Plus, there were at least thirty or forty other darts strewn over the ground and they're just the ones I can see. They must have peppered the area in the hopes of stopping me.

  Tranquilliser darts. So they want me alive. Though if they’d hit me with all these darts strewn all over the floor I think I might have overdosed and died anyway.

  But they didn’t, and I’ve dodged them, though they now know where the bunker is. So much for keeping this place a secret.

  The bunker door must have closed before they could get past the Roughrider – that would have been blocking most of the corridor – leaving them on the other side, and me unconscious on the floor. If it wasn't for this recorder, I wouldn’t know what time it was, but it displays a date and time at the top of the screen, and it seems that I’ve been out cold for over twenty hours.

  Twenty hours. I’m lucky that they haven’t managed to bust their way through in that time.

  Thankfully the big, metal door is still shut.

  I examined the panel and tried to bring up the options, but it seems to have been tampered with. You know, I even suspect that my mum may have set it up somehow, she was clever like that, knew all sorts of stuff about computers and tech that I never could grasp.

  The screen now just displays the same message constantly – ConmanLockedIn

  Well, thanks, Mum. Good job it was me that got through the door first.

  :: Record Date 27:06:4787 21:27

  Exhausted, even after over twenty hours of unconsciousness, I went back to sleep. No hunting for a good camping spot here, I just lay where I was. I did manage to pull one of the rucksacks over to lay my head on, but that was about all my body would allow. Four tranquilliser loaded darts, each singularly strong enough to knock out a man, has left me too lethargic to move much.

  :: Record Date 28:06:4787 01:09

  I’ve heard banging outside a few times, and once I awoke to a sound that could have been drilling, but I saw the thickness of that bunker door as I jumped through, and it must be two feet of solid metal. I don’t know what kind of metal it is, but I would imagine it’s meant to withstand a
lot more than what Vigilants have with them.

  For now.

  When those guys radio back what they’ve found here, and that a fugitive has just locked themselves inside, I would imagine an army of techs, Vigilants, just about everybody, is going to descend on this place.

  I’m in some serious trouble, now.

  I also think I woke again, later on, to a much louder noise, but I can’t be certain. The ground vibrated for a second or so, but if it was an explosion outside I must have missed most of it.

  Eventually my head started to clear enough for me to motivate myself, and I got up and used my headlamp to check that I still had everything. I did. I think the only thing that I lost was my rifle. Damn. I spent so much time working on and perfecting that thing, and now it’s at the bottom of that shaft, most likely in a thousand pieces. I guess I’ll have to get used to just short range handguns for a while – at least until I can replace the rifle.

  Hmm. Maybe there are weapons down here.

  Hopefully I won’t need them. My mother said to be careful down here, but she never mentioned any real, living dangers. Also if anything was living down here, they would need some form of food and this place has been sealed for years. Of course, there are things that walk and attack that don’t need inconveniences such as food and water, but I think my mum would have mentioned that.

  I just thought; the doors to this bunker were open. I know it would be hard for anything to get down the shaft, without moving the platform, but realistically this place hasn’t been sealed, and anything could have gotten in here in the last fifteen years. I have to presume the worst. So, guns at the ready.

  I’m ignoring the most important thing, here.

  I made it, eventually.

  I actually made it.

  At least I think I have. The little digital output on the door panel showing my name suggests that I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

  Now I just have to explore and find out what is beyond this entrance hall.

  I put my stuff in a neat pile and stuck a glowlight on top of it, so that I could see where it was as I explored around my immediate vicinity. The tiny batteries my headlamp and the glowlight use are the same type that power shredder guns use. Well, they are the same tech, at least. That means they aren’t going to run out anytime in the next millennia, but they don’t give off much light. I needed to find a switch that would light up the whole area.