by Kyle West
“Okay,” Violet said.
Chapter 3
THE FAMILY SET TO WORK, even little Makara helping in her own way by moving the family’s smaller possessions to the far corner of the room, freeing up the furniture — the two beds and the one wardrobe everyone shared — to be pushed in front of the door.
Once done, Violet cooked a meal and the family ate. No one was hungry, but Samuel insisted they eat anyway. They might need the energy for later.
After eating, they packed. All they had for this purpose was the luggage they had brought with them into Bunker One eighteen years ago, two large wheeled bags covered with dust. Most of the things they had brought in had been confiscated by Bunker personnel or traded away. But the bags had remained. The family filled them with clothing and food, as well as the cards they had played with earlier.
Samuel also took the heavy, cast-iron skillet his wife had just cooked in. It was still warm from the stove and soapy water she’d used to clean it. He felt foolish, picking it up and feeling its heavy weight. Would its heft be enough to smash in one of those monster’s heads?
It was better than nothing, he decided. No one said anything as he set the skillet in his lap and sat against the wall with the rest of his family.
There, they waited in silence.
SAMUEL FADED IN AND out of sleep. He couldn’t help it. Working the agripods was backbreaking labor, and the adrenaline of running had taken its toll. Violet kept watch, drinking more tea to stay alert.
He felt her hand pinch his shoulder, and his eyelids fluttered open.
She raised a finger to her mouth. Samuel nodded to show he understood. Both children were asleep. Violet then nodded toward the door.
At first, Samuel didn’t hear anything. His hearing wasn’t as good as Violet’s. Years of working around the pods’ hydroponic recyclers had somewhat deafened him. But soon, the sound was loud enough to where even he couldn’t deny it.
Click. Click. Click.
It sounded as if it were coming from the hallway outside.
Click. Click.
Makara stirred, and her eyes drowsily opened. As soon as she heard the noise, she looked confused, and then frightened.
Samuel hastily covered her mouth, while Violet raised a finger to her lips to keep her daughter silent.
It was quiet for a long time. Samuel Jr. let out a snore, and Violet woke him to cover his mouth, too.
Click, click, click, click . . .
The sound faded down the corridor. Samuel let out a breath.
A few minutes later, the hiss of a door sliding open made his skin crawl. At first, he thought it was their door, but it must have been someone else’s.
I thought there was a lockdown, Samuel thought.
He heard footsteps venturing into the hall. Low voices talking.
No, no, no, Samuel thought, wincing. Get back inside!
Then, muffled through his door: “Did you hear something?”
Jeff Tonioli, his nosy neighbor. Samuel had often dreamed his prying ways would get their comeuppance, but never like this.
His wife, Clara, spoke next. “I think it’s around the corner. Maybe we should check on the neighbors.” Her nasally voice carried all too well, despite the fact she probably thought she was being quiet.
“Don’t come here,” Violet prayed. “Please, God, don’t come here.”
“Let’s start knocking on doors, then,” Jeff decided. He had always styled himself some sort of self-appointed sheriff. Samuel had half a mind to go to the door and point the foolish man and his wife back into their apartment, but he wasn’t going to risk anything.
He closed his eyes and tried to will them away. They were a few doors down, so it wasn’t likely they’d come to his door first.
Knock-knock-knock.
It was his neighbor’s door, a quiet family who kept to themselves.
Don’t answer, Samuel said. Don’t answer.
They answered. The door hissed open. More voices filled the hallway outside.
Samuel closed his eyes, as if bracing for a punch. Over the next few minutes, half the hall was outside, talking, conjecturing, sharing information. Some were even laughing, albeit nervously. If it kept going like this, there’d be a full-on block party in ten minutes.
None of them know what’s happening, Samuel realized. The announcement had given no information. As for the bullets and the screams, maybe that was what they were trying to rationalize away.
“Maybe it’s safe?” Violet asked. Her eyes scanned the furniture piled against the door. There was doubt there, as if it had all been just a giant overreaction.
Samuel felt a sliver of doubt himself, much to his surprise. It seemed he was the only one who knew the truth. If his neighbors got wind of an overreaction, he would become the hallway laughingstock.
“No,” he said. “If they saw what I saw, they would not be out there.”
She nodded. “I trust you.”
There was a knock at their door. No one moved to answer it.
“Quiet, kids,” Samuel said. But the admonition proved needless. He had well-behaved children, and Samuel Jr. was making sure Makara stayed silent.
Samuel heard the footsteps wandering off.
“Are the Neths home?” Clara’s voice resonated from outside, above the buzz of conversation. Her voice could probably pierce ten feet of pure wall.
“Should be,” Jeff said. “Samuel works till 7 on the weekends, but Violet and the kids should be home. Give it another knock.”
Samuel’s face heated with irritation. The damn guy probably knew his schedule better than he did.
“I’m just worried about them,” she said. “That man works a lot. I hope his kids are okay.”
Violet squeezed Samuel’s hand to calm him. It didn’t do much good.
There was a sudden silence as all the voices went quiet at once. Something was happening.
“Disperse to your rooms!” came a commanding voice through a megaphone. Security. “You are not to leave your housing units. We are on full lockdown.”
There was a general murmuring, but Samuel heard the footsteps returning to their homes.
“Sarge,” another voice resonated. “Up ahead.”
There was a moment’s pause, and then a screech.
“Shit. Open fire!”
The corridor became a din of bullets, inhuman screeches, and human screams. Makara wailed and hid her face against her mother, while Samuel Jr.’s eyes looked as if they would pop out of his face. Samuel grabbed his son with his left hand, while his right wielded the skillet.
The horrible shrieks drowned out all else. Only a few of Security’s M5’s fired, and the men wielding them were screaming. It was impossible to tell just how many of those monsters there were, but soon, there were no more screams, and just the clicking of the monsters’ legs and mandibles, accompanied by disgusting slurping and sucking sounds.
For some reason, Samuel could still hear the screaming and crying of his neighbors.
Why were their doors still open?
The answer came soon enough. “I can’t close it, Mom! The reader’s red!”
From down the hall: “Close the damn door, Clara!”
There were similar shouts from up and down the hall. It seemed as if whoever had gone out could not close their doors. The lockdown was bugged, allowing people to open their doors but not close them. It should have been the opposite.
The slurping sounds ceased as a series of clicks — far more than there had been earlier — scuttled down the hall. There were anticipatory chortles and screeches as the monsters found their way into open homes. More dying screams filtered through the Neths’ apartment door. Samuel even heard some people run into the corridor. But the hallway was a dead end, and there was nowhere to flee.
Violet covered her daughter’s ears and commanded her to close her eyes, while Samuel held onto his son, covering his ears as well. They endured that hell for the next two minutes, before there were no more screams
and only slurping, crunching, and revolting sucking sounds. And always, those horrible clicks and gurgling coos.
The monsters slammed against their door a few times, rattling the furniture piled against it. Makara’s scream was cut off by her mother’s hand. The monster clicked and slammed the door again before wandering off in search of easier prey.
It was another five minutes before the clicks had receded into the distance, leaving an eerie silence behind.
Chapter 4
THE NETHS WAITED. MAKARA clung to Panda, squeezing it into her chest. Samuel Jr. stared emptily at the door, looking like a statue. Violet had her eyes closed, while her breaths were controlled to force calm.
Samuel was just trying to think of what to do.
Either the monsters would win, or Security would win. Samuel’s next decision had to be predicated on each of those outcomes.
If Security won, the best move was to stay in place. Their food would last long enough for Security to regain control, unless the fighting lasted weeks. Samuel didn’t think that would happen, though. The outcome of this battle would be decided within hours, or at the most, a couple of days.
If the monsters won, the best move was escape. To grab whatever supplies they could, especially food and warm clothing, and head for Bunker One’s entrance and try to force them to open it. Every passing minute meant more dead security officers, and more of those things filling the bunker.
It was a long shot, but perhaps it was the only shot.
Outside the Neths’ door, Samuel knew there would be dozens of dead people, at least two of them being officers. As grisly as the task would be, the officers would both have standard issue M5’s, or perhaps even the heavier M16. Samuel had received training on the M5, although it had been years. They had stopped doing gun training for civilians after the Rebellion.
There was another concern about getting out, too. If the Neths’ apartment was like the others, their door could not be shut once opened. And it wouldn’t take long for one of those creatures to bully its way through the Neths’ shabby barricade.
The question was, who would win the battle? Samuel tried to puzzle it out. The monsters had utterly overwhelmed not only the agriculture workers, but Security in the hallway. They had also pierced this far into the Bunker within an hour’s time. The Neths’ apartment was about as far from the elevators as you could get.
Worse, there had been no further announcements from Bunker Command. If the battle was going well, wouldn’t the higher-ups have offered some updates, some measure of hope? The only conclusion was that none of the updates were encouraging. Or worse, there was no one left to even make updates. Samuel had heard the monsters and gunshots during the last announcement. How long ago had that been? An hour?
There was only one conclusion that made sense. Bunker One was being taken over, and they had to escape while there was still a chance.
“Get the bags ready,” Samuel said, his voice quiet.
Violet’s eyes widened. “What? Samuel, we can’t go out there!”
Samuel almost gave into his wife. For all he knew, she was right.
But Samuel had to go with his gut. “This Bunker won’t last the night, Violet. It’s over.”
Makara squeezed Panda tighter, while Samuel looked at his father. “What do we need to do, Dad?”
“I’ll go first,” he said. “Get whatever weapons I can.” He looked down at his skillet. It just wasn’t going to cut it. “After that, we’ll head for the westside utility stairwell. It goes all the way to Level 0.”
“That’s locked to civilians,” Violet said.
Yes, that was true. “One of the guards should have a card on them. And it’s hard to imagine one of those . . . things . . . being able to fit into a stairwell. We should be safe there.”
Violet nodded. The stairwell was close. Go out into the hallway, hang a left, and keep going until the end of the corridor. For now, the Bunker seemed to be powered, which meant keycards would work. That might not be the case soon, another argument for leaving. Escape might become impossible later. If Samuel could find a card, they could get into that stairwell. He was confident of that.
“After that?” Violet asked.
“We go to the entrance,” Samuel said. “We force them to open the doors.”
Samuel didn’t say how he was going to force them to open it, and he didn’t know what he would do if there were any more of those monsters out there.
“What about the hangar?” Samuel Jr. asked. “If you really think this place is going down, won’t one of the ships be the way to get out?”
Samuel Jr. was right. The hangar was on the northside of the Bunker, on Level 2, right below the tarmac of the runway built into the side of Cheyenne Mountain, where Bunker One was located. If there was any safe way out, that was it.
There was only one problem: only the highest security clearances had access to the hangar. Samuel highly doubted a security officer’s card could get in unless their rank was high enough.
But the hangar was closer to the Neths’ position in the Bunker. Getting to Level 2 would be the easy part. After that, they still had to make their way across the Bunker itself. But the entrance was farther, and located on Level 0.
“I think you’re right, son,” Samuel said, after thinking it over.
Violet looked at Samuel fearfully, while Makara continued to play with Panda.
“Let’s do it,” Violet said. “I’m trusting you, Samuel.”
He looked her in the eyes and held both of her hands. “Stay close to me, Violet. I’ll protect you.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“We’ll leave the bags, actually,” he said. “They’ll just slow us down. And cause noise.”
Samuel did plan to take a backpack, though, which he filled with some food, water, and another layer clothing for his kids and wife. It would be dreadfully cold outside at this high elevation. Once the pack was on his shoulders, he stood before the doorway, removing a chair and pushing the wardrobe slightly to the side, giving just enough room for him to squeeze out. Violet handed him the skillet.
“Samuel?”
He looked at her. She kissed him on the cheek.
“Please be careful.”
Samuel nodded. “I’ll be back in a few. Stand in the corner, away from the door.”
Violet ushered the children to the far corner of the room, where they would be out of sight.
Samuel hesitated only a moment before pressing the button. The metal door hissed all too loudly as it slid open, revealing the scene of a massacre.
Chapter 5
BLOOD COVERED EVERYTHING. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. Entrails and viscera were caked onto every solid surface. Mangled corpses, half of which weren’t even recognizable, littered the hallway. The smell alone made Samuel want to heave. It was like an open sewer, combined with the metallic tinge of blood. And beneath that, there was something worse. Rotten.
It’s them, he realized.
His eyes trailed up the hallway, toward the two dead security officers sprawled across the floor, their gray military fatigues blood-soaked and covered with a strange, violet liquid. One of those scorpion-like creatures was splayed on the floor next to them, the purple fluid still leaking from it and pooling underneath the officers’ corpses. The two bloods, human and monster, intermixed to produce an even darker shade of purple.
Samuel promptly threw up as his vision went hazy. He was forced to put his hand on the wall for support. He felt chunks of flesh beneath his palm, and violently pulled his hand away with a sob.
Focus, a voice seemed to say from outside himself. Don’t look. Don’t smell. Get the card, get the gun, and get back to the room. Your family’s depending on you.
In obedience to the voice, which seemed to be a better, calmer version of himself, Samuel quietly made his way forward. He heard a horrible screech, but the sound seemed distant. There would be enough time to get to the officers and find what he needed.
He made it
to the intersection of his hallway and the larger corridor, one of three that made up this level of Bunker One’s western wing. He knelt, pushing down the need to heave again. His hands were already dirty, covered with blood, small chunks of flesh, and the purple fluid that belonged to the monster. The thing was beside him, unmoving. Samuel watched it a moment, to be sure it was dead. In the ten seconds he stared at it, it hadn’t so much as twitched.
Samuel didn’t think it was an insect, though it did share some of an insect’s features, only on a much larger scale. Its chitin shell was grayish pink and dappled with light purple spots, like open sores. He counted the legs, six on each side, thin and spindly. Those legs could poke through anything living like a needle. Its tail was like a scorpion’s, with a long, cruel spike pointing from its end. For all that horribleness, it was the monster’s three, all-white eyes that unsettled Samuel the most. They were set in the center of its triangular head, which sported two serrated mandibles. The eyes no longer glowed, as they had in the agripods above.
Samuel knew, without being told, that this thing — whatever it was called — did not come from Earth. It was the result of Ragnarok, though he didn’t understand how such a large creature could survive the meteor impact, or why it was inside Bunker One eighteen years after the fact.
Samuel rifled through the nearer guard’s pockets. It didn’t take long to find his keycard, assigned to Sergeant Lucien Mendez. He also took Mendez’s M5, doing his best to clean it on the officer’s uniform. It felt disrespectful, but Samuel didn’t want him or his family touching monster guts any more than they had to. It could carry diseases, for all he knew.
Samuel hurried back to his apartment, his boots sticking to the floor as he walked. He poked his head through the open door.
“Coast is clear.”
Violet and the children came forward. She handed him the pack, which he put on, while the children stared wide-eyed at his carbine.
“Come on, kids,” he said. “Close your eyes, Makara. And hand me Panda.”