“I’m just here to deliver groceries,” I say.
“Here, let me take that.” He reaches to relieve me of the box, but I turn so it’s out of his reach.
“I’ve got it,” I say, a little sharper than intended.
He looks confused. I’m sure Mr. Highest-Paid Football Player is used to women swooning when he offers help.
Not me. I don’t swoon. And I don’t accept help unless it’s absolutely my last resort.
I breeze past Derek, heading for the supply room. As I drop my load to the ground and start unpacking it, I move as quickly as I can.
Big jars of peanut butter Uncle Cal sells for a local farmer are lined up in neat rows on the shelves within a couple minutes. Then I shoulder my empty bag and return for the second load, looking straight ahead to avoid any small talk.
All I want is to get this over with and get the hell out of here.
Chapter Two
Derek
I can’t stop looking at the finished bunker. It’s so much more than I ever expected. Being down here gives me a kid on Christmas morning level of excitement.
My dad will be so surprised when I show him this place. It’s been in the works for more than a year as a gift to him, and it’s finally ready.
Almost. It’s still being stocked with supplies, and there are a few finishing touches to be added. There’s a computer guy down here working on something with wiring, and a finish carpentry assistant is hanging trim.
The carpentry guy, Matias, loves football. He lit up as soon as I came down to check out the progress.
“My Dolphins have what it takes this year,” he says. “We’re going all the way. But I hope your team does great too.”
He grins sheepishly, and I laugh.
“You Dolphins fans are eternal optimists,” I say. “You ever been to a game?”
His eyes widen. “Oh no, sir. I still love watching them on TV with my dad and my brothers, though. I come home from school every year for the Super Bowl.”
“You’re in college?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are you studying?”
“Electrical engineering. I’m about to start my sophomore year.”
I nod with appreciation. “Good for you, man. I’ll get you some tickets to celebrate one year down.”
“No way, are you serious?” His mouth drops open in surprise. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble…”
“No trouble at all. You deserve it. Working all summer and majoring in electrical engineering. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s Derek.”
The blonde delivering groceries by backpack speed-walks through the living room for about the tenth time, ignoring us completely. There’s a sheen of sweat on her face. I consider offering to help again, but I’m pretty sure she’ll shut me down for a second time.
That amused me more than anything. I can’t remember the last time a woman refused my offer of help.
Kenna approaches Matias and me, clipboard in hand.
“You want down comforters for every bed, right?” she asks me.
“Yeah, that’d be good.”
She checks something on her list. “I reached that photographer in Wyoming whose work you like. He’s sending me his full portfolio so you can choose the photos you want me to have framed for in here.”
“Perfect.”
Kenna’s been a huge help with this project. She knows every last detail, from an inventory of what we have down here to how much I paid for it. She’s only been working for me for six months, but I don’t know what I’d do without her now.
“The caterers will be here soon to set up for dinner,” she says. “If you don’t need anything else from—”
A deep banging sound makes her jump and silences her. We all look over at the stairway, where the loud clang came from. The computer subcontractor, a middle-aged guy named Bryce, stands up, his brow furrowed with concern.
I walk over to the staircase to see what happened.
“What was that?” I hear the grocery deliverer ask.
“Hang on,” I say, jogging up the stairs. “It looks like somehow the door fell closed.”
“It’s closed?” she cries. “Open it!”
I grab the steel handle and try to turn it, but it’s locked in place. It’s a simple door with just the one handle and a sliding backup lock.
“What the hell…” I mutter, trying the handle again.
“Did you get it?” Kenna calls from the bottom of the stairs.
“No, it’s stuck or something.”
Her heels click on the wood stairs as she comes up.
“How did it even get closed?” she asks.
“No idea.”
“It’s really heavy. There’s no way the wind could just blow it closed.”
I push against the door, even though I know it won’t work. The door is reinforced steel, designed to withstand bullets, fire, or the apocalypse.
“What’s going on?” the grocery girl practically screams. “Open the door!”
I meet Kenna’s eyes. “What’s her name?”
She glances down at her clipboard. “Erin Morrison.”
“Erin, don’t panic,” I call down the stairway. “Everything’s fine.”
“Everything’s fine? Are we locked in here or not?”
I sigh softly. “I’m trying to figure it out. Give me a minute.”
Bryce, Matias, and Erin are all looking up at us from the bottom of the stairway.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Erin asks in an angry tone. “If it is, it’s not funny. Did one of my brothers put you up to this?”
I pound on the door a few times. It doesn’t move at all.
“It’s soundproof,” Kenna reminds me.
I practically whisper so I don’t incite Erin further. “What the fuck happened?”
Kenna shrugs. “No idea. There isn’t even anyone else on the grounds. John left for the airport.”
I try the handle for a third time, still unsuccessfully.
“Call him and have him come back to open it,” I tell Kenna.
She taps on the screen of her phone, frowns, and taps it again.
“No service,” she says. “Probably the thick concrete walls.”
“I need out of here. Right. Now,” Erin says.
She charges up the stairs, bolts past Kenna on the landing, and joins me on the metal ladder. She grabs the handle and puts her entire upper body into trying to move it, but it doesn’t budge.
“Oh my God, this can’t be happening.” Tears flow down her cheeks as she looks at me, her huge, terrified eyes the color of an ocean before a storm. “Please get me out of here.”
“Relax,” I tell her. “Help will come.”
“Did you call someone?”
She frantically reaches for her backpack, digging through it. “Shit. She took my phone.”
“It’s okay. My security guy knows we’re down here. He’ll come when he gets back from the airport.”
Erin clings to the ladder, breathing fast. “I don’t think I can wait that long. I have to get out of here.”
“Look, go get some water and sit down before you hyperventilate,” I say.
She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes closed. “I can’t go back down there.”
“Well, it’s not—”
She pounds on the steel door with both fists, still crying. I look down at Kenna, who rolls her eyes.
“Help will come,” I repeat to Erin.
“What if your security guy is the one who locked us in here?”
“He wouldn’t—”
“Then, who? How did this happen?” Her frightened eyes remind me of the animals I encounter while hunting, when they’ve taken a fatal shot but aren’t dead yet.
“This had to be an accident,” I say.
“How, though?” Matias says from the bottom of the stairs. “That door must weigh a hundred pounds. And it doesn’t lock from the out
side unless someone locks it. I checked that when I started working in here.”
This is the first time I’ve been in the bunker since watching the hole get dug. My work schedule has kept me away from my retreat since then. I look to Kenna for confirmation of what Matias just said, and she nods.
“The lock has to be engaged from either the outside or the inside,” she says.
“Why would anyone ever want to lock it from the outside?” I have to yell so she can hear me over Erin.
She shrugs. “That’s the design of the door.”
“Fuck.”
I descend the ladder, dazed by the sudden turn of events. John’s been with me for almost five years; I can’t imagine he’d do something like this. I take care of the people who work for me with great salaries and bonuses.
“Is she okay?” Bryce asks me in a low tone as I get to the bottom of the stairs.
I exhale deeply and shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Let me out of here! Help! Someone help!” Erin screams, still pounding on the door.
“You’re gonna hurt your hands,” I say. She ignores me.
I sit down on the bottom stair and take out my phone. Like Kenna’s, it has no service.
This is definitely going to fuck up the dinner I’m hosting for some teammates tonight. They’re the ones John was picking up from the airport.
“What do we do?” Matias asks me.
“We wait. Help will come.”
Chapter Three
Erin
I’m exhausted in every possible way. My throat is raw from screaming, and my eyes are swollen from crying. It’s been eight hours, and help hasn’t come.
Derek peeled me off of the ladder two hours ago, muttering something about me falling asleep there and hurting myself. He forced me to take a few sips of water and then let me be.
I’ve listened to the other four people trapped down here bouncing ideas off each other, with theories about how we got locked in here ranging from a practical joke to the world’s smartest bear.
They’re all sitting in the living room, shoes off. Bryce is eating a can of peaches, and Derek is eating peanut butter by the spoonful. Kenna is looking lost now that her phone died. Even without service, she was on it constantly.
Matias is asleep in a recliner. How anyone could sleep right now is beyond me. I’m still in agony, trying to hold back a flood of bad memories that won’t stop now that I’ve lost the energy to scream and beat on the door.
It was easier when I could do that. I wanted to be as close to the exit as possible, my panic pouring out through my fists. It used all my energy, leaving no room for my past to haunt me.
My knuckles are bruised and swollen, but I don’t care. My hands are tucked beneath my chin, and I’m curled up in a fetal position.
Help will come, Derek said. But it’s been eight hours. It’s dark now. Where is the security guy?
I was supposed to be at Camp Caroline at four p.m. It’s now nine p.m. Surely, they’ll report me missing. If they do, my aunt and uncle will be worried sick. The kids from the camp who know me will be too.
Derek approaches me and squats down, offering me a cup of water.
“You don’t want to get dehydrated,” he says.
I sit up and reach for the cup, my hands throbbing with pain. Right before I grasp the cup, a powerful boom sounds so loudly I don’t just hear it, I feel it.
Derek sets the cup down and stands up, his expression serious. Matias stirs in the recliner.
“What was that?” Bryce asks, setting down the can of peaches on a rustic wood coffee table.
“Sounded like an explosion,” Derek says.
“Yeah.” Bryce stands up and crosses his arms in front of him. “But out here, what would it be? There’s nothing for miles.”
“Maybe it was an asteroid,” Matias offers. “Or…I don’t know, a missile? A satellite crashing?”
Derek has been calm and collected this whole time, assuring all of us we’ll be rescued soon. I overheard him telling Bryce this bunker is a gift to his father, who has always been concerned about nuclear war.
But right now, Derek’s expression is grim. He sits on the couch, elbows on his spread knees and head in his hands.
Kenna puts a hand on his shoulder, but he doesn’t move.
“Could someone have locked us in here…to protect us?” Matias asks no one in particular.
Derek runs his hands through his hair, sighing heavily. Then he stands up and looks around at us.
“If anyone wants to sleep, this place has two bedrooms with queen beds and one bunk room with eight singles. We don’t have pillows and blankets yet, though. I’ll stay out here and keep watch.”
No one moves. Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t imagine sleeping down here.
“Who, besides John, knows about this place?” Kenna asks.
Derek considers. “Only the contractor and subcontractors who built it. They all signed NDAs, though. I couldn’t have it getting out that I was building a survival bunker. Reporters would’ve had a field day.”
“So, if nothing else, we’ll all be reported missing. And the police will search here.”
“Yeah, but the door is camouflaged,” Matias reminds her.
“Let’s not worry about it right now,” Derek says. “We just need to stay calm until help arrives.”
“My wife must think I got into an accident or something,” Bryce says sadly.
He’s got thinning blond hair and a belly that hangs over his belt. I bet his wife has dinner waiting for him every night. I feel bad that, like my aunt and uncle, she’ll probably fear the worst.
“Are you worried?” Matias asks Derek.
“No. I know help will come, and we’re safe here in the meantime. This place runs on solar power. There’s an air purification system with a backup and water from an underground aquifer near here. We can’t run out of air or water. And we’ve got stuff to do. Books, movies, games. There’s even a walking track around the outer perimeter of this place. We’re gonna be fine.”
Kenna smiles and nods. She’s such a Barbie. Bruce and Matias seem to relax too.
Not me, though. I don’t care what Derek says about his air purification system, I still feel like I’ll choke on the air down here.
I lie down on the floor and curl into myself again, tucking my face beneath my arms. The only sounds I hear are the beating of my heart and my breathing, until my past creeps into my head unbidden.
“Be a good girl and stay quiet, Erin. Don’t say a word.”
Old habits die hard.
Chapter Four
Derek
I finish my fourth lap around the track, then drop down for push-ups. Even though I’m physically tired, I have to burn off some energy.
It’s been a little over twenty-four hours since the door was closed and locked. And I’ve spent most of that time racking my brain, trying to figure out how the hell this happened.
Nothing I come up with makes sense. John was the only other person on the property, and I can’t think of any reason he’d lock us in here.
I had my hunting retreat built on the wooded seventy-four-acre parcel of land I bought a few years ago, and there’s nothing else close by. That was by design—I wanted complete privacy from the stalkerazzi who hound me endlessly. If I’m in New York, the home city of my team, there are photographers following me every time I walk out of my apartment.
Picking up a coffee, going to the gym, or grabbing some dinner are all occasions they want photos of. I swear they’d shoot photos of me taking a shit if they could get into the bathroom. And if I have a woman with me, they get whipped into a frenzy, shooting photos of every glance, every door I hold open, every smile between us.
I love the seclusion here, in the place that feels most like home to me, but that’s exactly what has me so worried right now. If something fell from the sky and hit the house, were my teammates in there at the time? If John got them from the airport and they were al
l waiting in there for me, there’s no way they’re okay.
Just thinking about the whys and the what-ifs is enough to drive me crazy. And I can’t let any of my worry show. I need to stay strong and solid for the others.
Kenna’s hanging in there, but Matias and Bruce are worried. And Erin…she’s got issues. Her knuckles are swollen, cut up, and purple. I offered to clean them up and put some antibiotic ointment on them, but she refused. Wouldn’t even look at me.
I’m afraid to ask her if she has mental issues, but it would be good to know. If there were something I could do to help her be less of a basket case, I would.
This afternoon, I was scheduled to fly to New York. I have meetings with my agent and attorney, and I need to get settled in before I have to report for training camp next week. I wonder if the police are looking for us.
Five people can’t just vanish. And people knew all of us were here at the lodge. Maybe not in an underground bunker, but still.
Why are we still down here? And who locked that fucking door? The what-ifs are driving me crazy again.
I stand up, grab the towel I left on a bench beside the track, and wipe off my face, then open the door that leads back into the main bunker area.
Kenna is pacing from the kitchen to the living room. Bryce is watching a movie. Matias is sitting next to Erin on the floor. She has her knees pulled up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. She still looks like someone just stole her puppy.
“Are you claustrophobic?” Matias asks her.
“Yeah,” she says so softly I almost don’t hear it.
“Man, that has to be rough. This place isn’t small, though. Does that help at all?”
Erin lifts her head and looks at him. “I don’t have a fear of small spaces. It’s being trapped that’s the problem.”
Kenna cuts in. “You’re perfectly safe down here. What are you afraid is going to happen?”
“What I’m afraid of already happened,” Erin responds. “I’m trapped down here.”
“But not forever. Just enjoy the vacation from delivering groceries.”
Buried Page 2
