by Kyle West
She shook her head violently, squeezing the plush tighter to her chest.
“Hold on to him tight, then,” he said.
She nodded, then dutifully closed her eyes.
Samuel Jr. was the first to step through. A choked sob escaped his mouth as he looked at the surrounding carnage.
“Keep your eyes up, son,” Samuel said, his eyes watery. He hated for his children to experience such butchery. “We’ll be out of this soon.”
Violet squeezed out of the room last, carrying Makara. The little girl’s legs were wrapped around her mother’s torso, while her eyes were shut tightly, with her nose buried in her mother’s chest. Samuel Jr. wrapped an old shirt around the lower half of his face.
“Let’s move,” Samuel said. He looked at his wife. “Is she too heavy?”
Violet shook her head. She was a strong woman, used to heavy lifting at her job in the warehouse. Samuel could not both carry his daughter and wield the M5. They would have to make it work for now.
The family started moving, turning left at the intersection. Samuel lifted a finger to his mouth.
They passed two intersections, with one more to go until the stairwell.
The corridor was mixed-use, with some larger residential apartments, classrooms, and offices. Most of the doors were closed, and those that were open seemed to be empty within, and dark. There may or may not have been casualties inside. Samuel didn’t care to find out.
When they approached the last intersection before the stairwell, Samuel heard tell-tale clicking to his right. A creature was moving slow, roving for victims. As soon as they entered the intersection, it would be alerted to their presence. But if they made it to the stairwell door first, which couldn’t have been more than fifty feet away, and if the officer’s keycard worked, the family would be safe inside the stairwell, at least temporarily.
“Take the kids ahead,” Samuel whispered, giving Violet the keycard.
Despite the quietness of Samuel’s words, there was a gurgling chortle from around the bend. The clicking approached the intersection.
“Go, Violet,” he said. “Now!”
As Violet ran with the children, Samuel stepped sideways into the intersection, unclicking the safety and opening fire on the beast not thirty feet away. The carbine shot fully automatic, the first few bullets spraying the floor. After half a second, Samuel found his target when the monster charged forward into the stream of bullets. The monster began gyrating, letting out a long, hideous shriek. Samuel didn’t stop firing, not until it collapsed fully and slid toward him, its mandibles clicking weakly. The beast came to a rest not five feet away from Samuel’s boots.
Samuel cursed at not thinking to get more ammunition. How much of the magazine had emptied in that brief three seconds he’d been shooting? There was no time to go back. At best, he might have a few bullets left.
More screeches sounded from down the corridor, and within moments, more of those monsters showed up — two from the end of the corridor he was facing, and one from the direction the family had come from.
Samuel sprinted for the stairwell door, where his wife was already scanning the keycard while Makara wailed.
“Daddy!”
To Samuel’s relief, the door clicked open. Violet ushered Samuel Jr. inside, and then stepped in herself, holding the door open for her husband. Samuel dove through while Violet slammed it shut.
It only took a few seconds for the first of the monsters to crash against it, denting the two or so inches of reinforced steel.
Samuel heard other voices in the stairwell coming from above. He had not been the only one to think of coming here.
“Upstairs,” he said, in between breaths.
Violet let Makara down, who was sobbing uncontrollably.
“Come on, Makara,” Violet said firmly. “Go up! Give Mommy’s arms a break.”
Samuel Jr. pulled his little sister along, until both children were hurrying upstairs ahead of their parents. Samuel kept the M5 pointed at the door and backed away slowly, not leaving anything to chance. Only after two flights of stairs did he lower the weapon.
He heard voices whispering above and a girl crying. After letting his family catch its breath, all while listening to the harrowing sound of the monsters slamming into the lower door. He nodded at them to proceed upward.
On the next landing, they passed a pair of teenagers sitting against the wall, a boy and a girl, who looked similar enough to be siblings, each with blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. The girl was covered with blood and crying, while the older brother was trying to comfort her, to no avail. She didn’t seem to be in pain, though. That blood wasn’t her own.
“We have to take our chances out there, Terra. If we stay here . . .”
“They can’t get in here,” she said, her voice quavering. “They can never get in here.”
The boy looked at her hopelessly, and only now seemed to notice the Neths. Samuel didn’t recognize either of them, but then again, Bunker One was a big place, with several thousand occupants.
“Sir,” the boy said respectfully, his attention going to Samuel’s gun. “My name is Clint. Clint Richards. This is my sister, Terra. Can you get us to the entrance?”
Terra looked up, tearfully, and seemed to calm down when she realized they were no longer alone.
“We’re not going to the entrance,” Samuel said. From below, the door slammed again, causing Terra to sob. “I work near there. At the agripods. That’s where they broke in. We’re going to the hangar.” He eyed both the boy and the girl. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“Sir!” the boy said. “Thank you, sir. We won’t get in the way, I promise.”
He pulled his sister up, but she threw away his hand. “Leave me here, then. I’m staying.”
“Terra, we can’t stay here. You saw what they did to . . .” His eyes filled with tears. “Terra. Our parents might have . . . we can still get out of this alive.”
“I don’t want to,” she said, her face a mask of pain. “I don’t want to be alive anymore.”
“Do you want to die in here of starvation? That’s what’s going to happen, Terra. I won’t let that happen.”
At this, Terra started crying again, burying her head in her arms, while her long hair screened her face.
Violet knelt. “Terra?”
Her voice came out gently. Slowly, Terra lifted her face.
“I know it’s scary,” she said, “but you don’t want to stay here. You want to get out of this place. You want to live a long, long time.”
Terra shook, tears falling, and then nodded.
“You’re coming with us,” Violet said, her tone gentle. “We’re going to the hangar. We’re going to find a ship out of here. You and your brother are going to be fine.” She took Terra’s hand. “Okay?”
She nodded, sniffling. “Okay.”
Terra allowed herself to be pulled up, and even let Clint lead her by the hand.
The four became six as they continued the long climb up to Level 2.
Chapter 6
THEY REACHED LEVEL 2 all too soon, despite the twenty or so flights of stairs they had to climb. Samuel shouldered his M5, carrying Makara most of the way. They had passed no one else on the way up. Either no one had thought to enter the stairwell, or they didn’t have the required clearance for it. The teenagers’ parents must have been higher-ups.
Each floor they passed brought new horrors. There were screams, screeches, gunfire, along with the sickening crunching and slurping of people getting mauled. When they reached Level 2, the mayhem was just as bad, if not worse, than other levels. But this is where the hangar was, and the Neths and the two teens had little choice except to step out into that chaos of gunfire, screams, and death.
“There’s no way we can make it,” Clint said. “The hangar is, what, a thousand feet from here?”
“Not quite that,” Samuel said. He heard a stream of people run by in the direction of the hangar. Just a moment later, the
clicks of a scuttling monster chased after them. “Not sure how much ammo I have left. We should wait a minute longer.”
There were screams as the monster caught up with the fleeing people. Violet covered her daughter’s ears. She was now twisting Panda’s arms in anxiety.
They waited a few more minutes, until the sounds had completely dispersed.
Samuel ventured to open the door and poked his head both ways. There were several mutilated corpses, a scene he was fast becoming numb to. From somewhere up ahead came the sound of gunfire. The lights flickered a moment before going steady.
It was as clear as it was ever going to get.
“Follow me,” he said. “And run when I tell you.”
They walked quickly down the corridor. They heard a clamor of voices and gunshots from up ahead. Samuel didn’t want to lead his family toward people — people were targets — but it was also the direction of the hangar.
Anytime there was an intersection, Samuel waited and poked his head around the corner. The next two times he did so, it was safe to cross. They approached the end of the corridor, which Samuel knew to be the extreme northeast of Bunker One’s layout. He looked around the corner to the right, to see a pair of monsters scuttling in the other direction. He waited until they disappeared around the corner of the intersection ahead.
He nodded toward an open doorway. “In there.”
All six of them piled into what appeared to be a classroom, with its desks and chalkboard. The door was stuck open, while a couple of bodies littered one of the corners farthest from the door. Obviously, it wasn’t safe to stay here long, but Samuel needed a place to hide temporarily.
Samuel wondered just how long they should wait when clicking came from around the corner. He raised his M5 and pointed it toward the open doorway. He raised a finger to his mouth to indicate silence. Violet covered Makara’s mouth, to make sure she didn’t let out a peep.
The creature scuttled by the room with not even a glance inside. Samuel had been afraid they would have a strong sense of smell, but it didn’t seem so. If anything, they seemed to see and hear remarkably well. It was important to remain quiet and still when they were close.
Once the clicking had receded, he explained his theory to the rest.
“Remain completely still and quiet when they’re near, and they might miss us, like that one just did.” He nodded toward the doorway. “Let’s head out.”
“Close your eyes, honey,” Violet whispered to Makara.
Makara promptly obeyed.
The family and the two teenagers followed Samuel out of the classroom, after he had checked in both directions. Once they were in the hallway, he looked around the corner. There was nothing.
“Now’s our chance,” he said.
They walked quickly down the corridor, Samuel leading the way. They passed two intersections, the teenagers lagging. Samuel gestured for them to keep up, but Terra was moving slowly, almost stumbling, and Clint didn’t want to leave her behind.
Poor girl, he thought.
Samuel caught Clint’s attention, and gestured for him to get his sister to pick up the pace. Clint complied, pulling her along.
When they got to the next juncture, Samuel checked it quickly, then urged the others along.
They had made it a few steps when Samuel heard the scuttle of legs.
“Run!”
Even as the Neths started to flee, Samuel looked back, recognizing that it would be too late for the teens, still lagging. A pair of monsters rounded the corner, and he watched in horror as Terra gave a bloodcurdling scream. Her hands reached out, as if to grasp her brother. The second monster leaped onto Clint, those bladelike points puncturing him as easily as they would a sack of flour. The boy didn’t even scream.
While the monsters were momentarily distracted, Samuel urged his family to run ahead while he backed away, his M5 raised to his shoulder. Both monsters were slurping noisily at the teens, but Samuel didn’t shoot yet, knowing that every bullet could save his family’s life down the line. He rounded the corner and ran after his family.
They joined a stream of fleeing people, all with the same idea.
This won’t end well, Samuel thought, but there was nothing else to be done. The screeches emanated from behind, and the monsters rounded the corner. Samuel and his family were at the tail end of a dozen or so people running for Bunker One’s northside.
The monsters were lightning fast and would easily catch up to them. But when all seemed loss, a Security detachment rounded the bend ahead, comprised of eight or so men, the front two with riot masks and shields, while the ones behind hefted heavy M16s.
“Move, now!” called out the leader. “Get behind the shields, or you will be shot!”
Samuel was bringing up the rear, sprinting forward past the first two shield bearers, young men whose eyes were wide with fear.
“Fire!”
The hallway became a raucous din of bullets, and the screeches of the monsters pierced even above the storm. Samuel didn’t pause to look; he and his family kept running, unlike some of the other civilians who thought themselves safe behind the line of officers.
The Neth family rounded the corner ahead, the final one before the hangar. The solid double doors lay straight ahead, perhaps a hundred feet away down the wide corridor, but those doors were closed. About five or so dead bodies lay around it. Samuel looked down at his keycard doubtfully. Would it be enough for him and his family to get inside?
Before he had time to consider it, screeches sounded from ahead, shortly followed by human screams. They needed a place to hide before they were surrounded.
Samuel ran to the nearest door, scanning it open to reveal a supply closet. He rushed his family inside, but there was no room for him.
“Sam . . .” Violet said.
“Stay here,” he said.
Before she could argue, he scanned the door shut.
His attention was drawn to the hangar doors, where a man screamed as he tried to beat it down. Two monsters tackled him from behind. Samuel tiptoed across the corridor while the creatures tore into their hapless victim. He scanned open a door directly across from the closet. He stepped inside what appeared to be an office. Once inside, he scanned it shut.
He turned to face a desk, behind which were crowded bookshelves. A globe stood on the desk’s corner, along with a few knickknacks and a couple of pictures of a gray-bearded, middle-aged man and his wife, a pretty brown-haired woman.
That same man lifted his head from behind the desk, where he had been cowering on the floor, his state shell-shocked and eyes reddened.
“Leave me,” he said, with a slight, southern drawl. “It’s over.”
Samuel scanned the nameplate on the desk. Dr. Cornelius Ashton. He recognized the name, had even seen him a few times, though their paths rarely crossed. He worked down in the L-Levels, but Samuel supposed he was important enough to have an office up here too, next to Admin.
“Dr. Ashton,” Samuel said, calmly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The man rolled his sharp blue eyes. “Of course you’re not. Those crawlers have done that enough already.”
“Crawlers?”
Ashton nodded his head toward the hallway. “Those things. I knew it would come to this. Always knew it would come to this. I kept my damn mouth shut when I should have raised hell.” He stood, and then sat in his chair, fingers raking his gray hair that had half-turned snowy white. “Now, she’s paid the price. Now . . . she’s dead.”
He took a picture off his desk and looked at it. Tears formed in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Samuel said, awkwardly. He thought about his family, and when it might be safe to get back to them.
“Don’t bother trying to get to the hangar,” Dr. Ashton said, looking at Samuel again. “I know why you’re here. You want in.” He looked at the gun. “You probably mean to force me to open those doors.” He shook his head. “It’s all pointless. Those crawlers . . . the thing controlling
them. They’re going to kill us all. They’ll finish what Ragnarok started.”
“Listen,” Samuel said, stepping forward. “I don’t know what you’re blabbing about. I’m sorry about your wife. My name’s Samuel. Samuel Neth. I need your help. My family is locked in the closet across the hall. My wife, Violet, is locked in there with our two kids, Samuel and Makara.” Ashton’s sharp blue eyes focused on Samuel, and for the first time, the doctor seemed to be coming out of his head. “They’re all scared, and so am I, for that matter. I need your help, Dr. Ashton. You said you can open the hangar doors. I can’t bring your wife back, but if you intend on dying here, maybe you can give me your keycard. Give me and my family a shot at getting out.”
Ashton barked a bitter laugh. “There is no shot of getting out. You realize President Garland is dead, son? The president was one of the first to fall. That was planned. These crawlers are more intelligent than even I realized.” His blue eyes looked at him, haunted. “We knew about this, Samuel. We fucking knew. It’s in the Black Files.”
“Listen,” Samuel said. “I don’t know about any of that. I’m not giving up. I’ll have that keycard from you, if you please.”
Ashton sniffed. “Fine,” he said. “But you ain’t getting anywhere without a pilot. Last they updated me, none of the ships had taken off yet. Can only mean all the available pilots died in the initial wave.”
“There’s got to be somebody who can fly,” Samuel said.
“There is,” Ashton conceded. “Me.” He looked from Samuel’s gun, then right back in his eyes. His cold, blue gaze was harrowing. “Are you willing to die to protect your family, Samuel Neth?”
Samuel didn’t need to think about it. “Of course. Are you going to help me or not?”
Ashton thought for a moment. After a time, he sighed. “I’ll try.” He opened a drawer, pulling out a six-shooter that looked quite old, but well-maintained and polished. “Planned on using this on myself. Better than letting them get me.”
“You’re a pilot, Dr. Ashton,” Samuel said. “You can still save a lot of people. Including my family. Don’t kill yourself because you failed at something.”