by Kyle West
I looked down at her doubtfully, but in the end, I supposed she was right. Maybe this would only take a few minutes, and then we would be back on our way to Pyrite aboard the Odin.
I eased myself down, sliding off Askal’s back. Pinpricks flooded my feet as I landed with a thud on the ground. I shook each foot, wincing, trying to get some circulation back. I took a few steps forward to work out the stiffness. Only thirty feet in front of me lay the trailer, just as I’d left it three months ago. If there was any difference, it was that it was covered with even more red dust and grime. There must have been a dust storm recently.
The Bunker entrance wasn’t far. I didn’t even know what I expected to find – Khloe and I had shut that Bunker door, which would make it impossible to get in. If the main entrance was closed, there was always the motor pool entrance. I didn’t even know where that was, though I supposed I could ask Michael by radio, if it came to that.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be a coward, but then again, maybe my fear was justifiable when I had lost everyone I cared about in a single, horrifying night.
Anna had never had that experience in this place, even if she had experienced it elsewhere. She walked toward the trailer. Her hand was on her holstered pistol rather than her katana. She stood in front of the trailer door, reached out her left hand, and tried the latch.
“Wait,” I said, jogging to catch up with her.
It might have been overly protective of me, but I didn’t want her going in anywhere by herself. It was a silly sentiment, since Anna was far more likely to protect me than the other way around.
The metallic door swung wide open, and Anna took a few steps back, her hand never leaving her handgun. The opening revealed only darkness. We waited a few moments before approaching the trailer once more.
“Me first,” I said.
Anna shrugged, letting me pass.
I flipped on the light, and everything was illuminated in a pale yellow glow. Everything was as I had left it: the couch, the fridge, even the red fleece blanket that had covered Khloe and me, were all still in their places. The cabinets were opened from when I had rummaged in them for food and supplies. Whatever the case, it didn’t seem like there was anything of interest now. I shut off the light and closed the door, stepping back onto the dusty ground.
Askal stared at me with his white alien eyes. I wondered what was going on in his mind. He knew that I wanted him to wait here until we got back from the Bunker. Just looking at the Askala reminded me that I was infected with the xenovirus. Elekai or not, it still gave me the shivers. I didn’t know if that was something I could ever get used to. Anna looked at me and smiled, her thoughts seemingly distant. We’d had more than a few conversations lately about what the Wanderer told me. I still felt defensive when the subject of the Elekai virus came up. It made me feel different from everyone else.
“We could stay here for tonight if the exploration takes a long time,” Anna said.
“I don’t plan on staying here the night,” I said. “It’s too dangerous.”
I’d already lost one girl I loved at this place. I didn’t want to lose another.
“You going to be alright?” Anna asked.
I felt sudden sadness clench my throat. “Yeah.”
She touched my shoulder, grabbing on and pulling me close.
“You’ll be fine,” she said, looking me in the eye and smiling. “We’ll try to get done before the day is out.”
I nodded. Maybe Anna didn’t understand why I hated this place so much, but that was to be expected. I didn’t expect anybody to understand. Too often, that was just the way things were.
“Sometimes, all you can do is put one foot in front of the other,” Anna said. “You can’t get anywhere without that.”
I nodded, and Anna started walking in the direction of the Bunker.
“Wait,” I said.
Anna paused, half-turning back to me.
“There’s something I need to do first.”
As Anna raised an eyebrow, I turned away and circled around the trailer. I didn’t know if Khloe’s grave would still be there, but I intended to find out. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see her. I didn’t know when, or if, I would come back here again.
I walked on, and as soon as I rounded the trailer’s corner, I paused. The rocks I had laid on the ground over three months ago were still there, perfectly arranged in the shape of a heart. The rocks were partially covered in red sand. No one had been this way since I’d left. Somehow, that gave me comfort.
I walked forward a few steps, the tip of my boots touching the bottom point of the heart. The cold wind let up and everything stilled into silence as I watched that spot of Earth.
It was so hard to believe that it had only been three months ago. It felt like another lifetime. Another person. But the feelings were still there, visceral and bleeding.
I had often wondered what things would have been like if Michael and I hadn’t found that man infected with the xenovirus. Everything would have been different. Bunker 108 would still be running, probably. My father would still be alive. Khloe, over whose grave I stood, would still be alive. At the same time, I would have never met Anna, Makara, or Samuel. This whole mad quest to save the world would have never started in the first place.
I realized that it had all happened for a reason. Maybe...maybe this loss was necessary. I hated that thought: that any loss was necessary. But I also saw how Khloe’s death led to everything we had accomplished: discovering the origins of the xenovirus, meeting the Wanderer, gathering the Vegas gangs, discovering the purpose behind the Elekai and the Radaskim. Even knowing this, I knew there were no guarantees. Khloe’s death would mean nothing if we failed, if we were destroyed by the Radaskim in their aim to conquer all life. Even with the Wanderer guiding me, there was the overwhelming probability of failure. After all, hadn’t a thousand worlds already failed? What made ours so special?
But at least we had the chance to go down fighting. Like Khloe had.
Anna stood next to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. I wrapped my right arm around her waist. She leaned into me, silent.
“This is it, isn’t it?” she asked.
I nodded. This was it. Or at least that was what I had thought three months ago, when I had left this spot behind and wandered into the Wasteland with nothing but the clothes on my back and a pack filled with a blanket, water, and granola. That had been the beginning of a whole new life – a whole new person. It was a life that, surprisingly, lasted more than a couple of weeks. And now here I was – standing with someone I loved over the grave of someone I had loved.
“Come on,” I said.
We turned from the grave and trod south in the direction of the Bunker door, about a mile distant. Making peace with my past, such as I could, gave me a strength to go on that I had not expected. With Anna by my side, I could handle scouting this Bunker. I could handle anything.
At least, that was my hope.
Chapter 2
“It’s open.”
Anna stared into the dark opening of Bunker 108. That vault door, which Khloe and I had closed so long ago, had swung inward all the way. Either the wind had blown it open, which I found unlikely, or someone, or something, had come out after us on that dreadful night long ago. Or, perhaps, someone had gone in. I didn’t know which prospect was the worst.
If someone had gone inside – a Raider, perhaps, seeking spoils – the odds that they had come back out again were very slim.
And yet, that was what we planned on doing. If the door was open then there was a chance the Howlers had gotten out. Whatever that door being open meant, one thing was clear: neither of us had expected it.
“Should we still go in?” Anna asked.
I hesitated. I wanted to say “no,” but Makara would probably want us to scout this out. You didn’t just turn tail and run when you encountered the unexpected.
“Let me raise her.”
I put the radio to my mo
uth. “Makara. Got a copy?”
Static sizzled from the speaker as Anna and I waited for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Makara responded.
“Go ahead.”
“We’re here. The door is open. Khloe and I didn’t leave it like this. It means someone has gone in or come out since then.”
I stared into the darkness. I imagined Makara, sitting safe on the deck of Gilgamesh, two hundred miles distant. Was she going to decide to risk our lives?
“Proceed with recon?” I asked.
Finally, Makara answered. “Do you...smell anything?”
It seemed a strange question at first, but I soon realized its significance. Anything infected with the xenovirus carried a trademark rotting odor.
I inhaled deeply, the icy cold air stinging my lungs. I smelled absolutely nothing.
“Negative,” I said.
“We could proceed just partway in,” Anna said. “There’s no way we can find out anything standing here.”
That much was true. And it seemed a huge waste to fly all the way down here just to turn back. Why would Makara send us if she didn’t plan on...
“Go ahead and proceed with the recon,” Makara said. “Odin should be there late afternoon after it drops the last of the food. That gives you guys six hours to find out what you can. And if anything jumps out at you...run away. Don’t fight. Run to that creature and get in the air first thing.”
“Copy that. I’m turning the radio off, but we’ll update you soon. Over and out.”
I clicked the radio off and clipped it to my belt. I set my pack on the ground, fumbling in its largest pocket for my flashlight. I withdrew it and clicked it on, pointing it into the dark Bunker with my left hand. I threw on my pack once more, drawing my Beretta from its holster with my right, all the while pointing the flashlight into the empty rock tunnel. Anna unsheathed her katana, a metallic ring sounding in the cold air.
“Alright,” I said. “Ready?”
Anna shrugged. “As much as I’ll ever be.”
It was the best either of us was going to get. I walked toward the dark entrance and crossed the threshold.
***
The darkness deepened as we left the open entrance behind. It warmed somewhat out of the wind. I almost wanted to close the door for the sake of warmth, but I knew that this was a bad idea. It was dark enough in here and I didn’t want to compound the problem.
The rock tunnel sloped away from the entrance. Being inside brought on a surreal feeling. On one hand, it felt like coming home – after stripping it of everything that felt like home and replacing it with something hostile and dark. Bunker 108 would be completely empty of human life by now, and filled with something...else.
I didn’t pause in my advance down the tunnel, even when I knew what my first sight would be. Khloe’s parents would be somewhere up ahead, lying dead in the darkness, ripped and torn and likely still rotting from their deaths three months ago
Or, at least, I thought they would be. I scanned my flashlight beam down the tunnel, finding absolutely nothing. It was as if the tunnel had been cleared by someone – or something. Even the remains of Chan’s ruptured corpse were absent.
“There should be bodies here,” I said softly. “Chan. Khloe’s parents. They’re all gone, now.”
“Where do you think they went?”
I didn’t have an answer for her. “I have no idea.”
We reached the end of the tunnel and stopped before the inner vault door. Why or how that was closed, I had, again, no idea. Khloe and I had left it open. Maybe we weren’t the last ones out. I didn’t think Howlers were intelligent enough to close a door. A person had to have done it. Could someone have survived the infection and come out of hiding, escaping the Bunker days after it had been first infected? They would have closed the inner door, and perhaps left the outer one open in their panic to escape.
There was no way we could speculate from this position. We would have to go further into the Bunker.
“What now?” Anna whispered.
I cautiously stepped forward, pressing my ear against the cold metal. I heard nothing but my own pulse thrumming in my ear. I waited a moment longer. Silence.
“Should we go in?” Anna asked.
This was the only way in available, not counting the motor pool entrance. The latch was just inches from my hand. But I made no move to open it. It could lead to both of our deaths just an instant later if something was waiting on the other side.
But that wasn’t all. Something about this place wasn’t adding up. I had expected bodies. I had expected Howlers. But so far, none of these things had appeared. We would know nothing for sure until we opened this door. And I wasn’t sure if we should do even that. So far, there had been no bodies, no threats. For all we knew, Bunker 108 really was safe.
My own intuition, however, said the opposite. If only there were some way to see inside without risking ourselves...
“What’s that?” Anna asked.
She was pointing back toward the entrance. Sitting to the side of the door was a computer station. It was what the guards used to watch outside the Bunker. Maybe it was also connected to the rest of Bunker 108’s security network. If so, we might even be able to see inside the Bunker.
“We could see if it still works,” I said. “The power probably went off months ago.”
Then again, I thought of Bunker One and how one of its fusion reactors still ran twelve years after the Bunker had gone offline. As long as there was water for fuel and no kinks in the machinery, I knew the power could run for a long time. The U.S. had planned for these things to run for decades, if not centuries.
We walked back to the front of the tunnel, the natural light of the open door lighting the way. Anna stood in front of the computer station. She hit the “Enter” key. To my surprise, the screen came out of hibernation, flashing blue. A keyboard appeared on the touchscreen along with several buttons, listing, “Camera 1,” “Camera 2,” all the way up to “Camera 6.” After all of these months, Bunker 108’s security system was online. Maybe even the doors had power, along with the lights. Maybe we could get the entire Bunker running again.
But first, we had to make sure it was safe. And that meant looking at the cameras.
Anna touched the “Camera 1” tab. It showed the view directly in front of the Bunker door. It was a bit weird, because the way the camera was pointing showed us standing in front of the computer station. She quickly switched between cameras. Two and Three were both dark. Four showed a shot of the cafeteria. The lights were off; the camera view itself was illuminated green with night vision. The Caf was apparently empty, but tables and chairs were all overturned. There were no bodies. I stared at the screen intently. This was where the Bunker residents had gathered to make their final stand against the Howlers. Even if there were no bodies in the entrance tunnel, it seemed there should be bodies here.
“Something is really, really wrong,” I said.
I was beginning to wonder if we were even in the right Bunker. I stared at the open vault door. 108. There was no denying it. We were in the right place.
Anna switched over to Camera 5. It showed an elevated view of the Hydroponics Lab. The large room was dim, but the grow lights were still on. The plants were wild, green, overgrown. No one had been tending them for the past few months, which dashed any possibility of survivors living here. They were still getting water and light, though. If there had been any survivors, they would surely be in this room because of the constant supply of food and water. But I saw nothing in those tangled plants. By the grow lights, I could see tomatoes, apples, and other fruits piled on the floors, rotting.
Finally, Anna switched over to the final camera, Camera 6. Immediately, the screen flicked to the Officers’ Wing. I felt coldness overtake me when I saw three Howlers standing upright, still and silent. Their white eyes stared vacantly ahead, apparently dormant.
“Well,” Anna said. “There’s our answer.”
So the Bunker
was still overrun by Howlers. But who had cleaned the entrance tunnel and the Caf? It was hard to imagine the Howlers doing this themselves. Maybe there were survivors, and they had only reclaimed certain parts of the Bunker. If that were the case, then why had the Hydroponics Lab remained untended?
“Maybe there are still survivors,” I said. “They could have just locked themselves in one area of the Bunker. Perhaps near the reactor. That would explain why the power is still on.”
“Or maybe near the kitchen,” Anna said. “There would be food there.”
“Maybe,” I said.
In my mind’s eye, I pictured the schematic of Bunker 108. It had three levels, and I knew how to access each area. On top was the largest area – the main floor. The main corridor made a square shape. It contained all the social areas – offices, the Caf, the Officers’ Wing, the medical bay, the Rec. The Mids, the area directly beneath the top floor, contained apartments, mostly. The bottom level contained the power plant, the Hydroponics Lab, and the recycling tanks. I had come out of Bunker 108 through the Hydroponics Lab, using a spiral stair that could be accessed by the atrium.
We merely had to open the inner door, enter that security tunnel, go down the stairs, and walk the rest of the way to the Hydroponics Lab. If there were any survivors, I thought that was where they would most likely be. It would also be fairly easy to access, if the security door leading to the stairs was unlocked.
“I know a way we can get to the Hydro Lab,” I said. “We wouldn’t have to go too far in.”
“Maybe we should just watch for a while, first.” Anna switched back to Camera 5, showing the verdant growth overtaking the lab.
“Watching is a fine idea,” I said. “But at least from where the camera is sitting, it’s too high and the vegetation too thick to see anything. We have to actually go there to find out if anyone made it.”
“I still think they’d be in the kitchen,” Anna said. “It’s where I would go.”
Anna and I watched the screen a moment longer. Going inside the atrium meant putting ourselves in danger. Cameras 2 and 3, which were now dark, likely would have showed a view of that area. Anna cycled between the defunct cameras once again. But these cameras were gone, and we would have to be alright with going in blind.
