Dusk of Humanity : (Book 1 in the Dusk of Humanity Series)

by M. K. Dawn

  “I can imagine Dr. Barnett pursued you with his vast knowledge of medicine.”

  Her eyes flew open. “How did you know?”

  A sly smile danced on Evelyn’s lips. “I didn’t. Not really. Just a guess.”

  “Do you think anyone else knows?” Sloan stood and paced. “I would hate for people to think I received special treatment because of my past relationship with Fletcher.”

  “But,” Evelyn drained her drink, “you kind of did. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. But you were allowed to perform a surgery today when no one else was even considered.”

  How could she be so thoughtless? “You’re right. My actions were inappropriate and unprofessional. I’ll apologize to everyone tonight.”

  Evelyn seized Sloan’s arm and halted her. “That won’t be necessary. The only one I told was Archer. Everyone else was too wrapped up in The Farm to notice.”

  That brought her a small bit of relief. “Thank you, Evelyn.”

  “For most of us, this weekend has been a welcomed break. But I understand for you it’s more of a nuisance. I can’t think of one person among our group who would have traded The Farm tour for a routine appendectomy.” Evelyn dropped her arm.

  “I appreciate your discretion and understanding.”

  “Now, if the surgery was of the rare nature, this conversation may have gone a whole different way.” A hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

  “If our paths ever cross again, I promise to bring you in on all unconventional surgeries that come my way.”

  “You bet your ass I’ll hold you to that promise.”

  An unexpected yawn tugged at her lips. “It’s been an uneventful few days, but still I’m exhausted.”

  “Lack of sleep from the past five plus years has caught up with you.”

  Sloan headed for her room. “I’m going to pack and lie down for a bit before dressing for tonight.”

  “I’ll meet you out here at five till six. Or earlier?”

  “I’m not in any hurry.”

  “I am,” Evelyn mumbled. “We’re out of wine.”

  ***

  Sloan and Evelyn arrived to dinner at ten after six. The elevator had taken an unusually long time to arrive. One look at the crowded entryway and Sloan understood the delay. Though the dining room was large enough to house the entirety of The Bunker at one time, dinner was staggered to avoid this very situation. Tonight, however, everyone would dine together for the final farewell.

  “I love your dress, by the way,” Evelyn said as they stepped off the elevator and maneuvered through the crowd. There wasn’t a line as Sloan first suspected, just a horde of people scattered about and mingling.

  Sloan smoothed out the black cotton polyester blend. “It’s the only thing I own that would be considered cocktail attire.”

  “One classic, form-fitting black dress is all you need.”

  Sloan eyed Evelyn’s red lace beaded dress. It was stunning and shadowed not only the simplistic nature of her own but every other woman’s she’d seen thus far. “My mother always said as much.”

  “Smart woman. Shall we find our table?” Evelyn led them inside.

  In the few hours since lunch, the cafeteria-style dining hall had been transformed into a ballroom. Tables were covered in white linen and adorned with rustic candle holders and mason jars vases with wildflower bouquets. The wall to wall fish tank was the only light aside from the lit candles and they together illuminated the room with an iridescent glow.

  “Seems a bit much for a fallout shelter,” Evelyn said.

  Sloan had the same thought when she entered the room. “Rental items, perhaps? As this is a special occasion.”

  “There’s the bar.” Evelyn pointed to the left corner. “Let’s grab a drink first while the line is short.”

  Evelyn ordered a whiskey sour and Sloan a cabernet.

  “Doesn’t appear the tables are assigned. Do you mind sitting with Travis and Vicky?” Evelyn nudged Sloan in the side. “Unless you’ve made other seating arrangements?”

  “Don’t be silly. I have no intention of dining with Major Archer tonight. Travis and Vicky’s table would be lovely.”

  “Who said anything about Archer? I thought you might sit with Dr. Barnett. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, correct? Time spent in the OR doesn’t allow much chit-chat.”

  Sloan’s face flushed. Why had she automatically assumed Evelyn was speaking of Archer? “Several years in fact, though he mentioned nothing about tonight when I left him this morning.”

  “Everyone,” a voice announced over the intercom, “if you would please take your seats, dinner will be served.”

  “There you two are,” Vicky said as they approached their usual table. “We’ve been holding your seats. Isn’t this magical?”

  As Evelyn and Sloan sat, plates were placed in front of them.

  “Ribeyes, huh?” Travis cut into his large steak. “Pricey for a government facility. Almost like they’re trying to butter us up for something.”

  “Doesn’t seem to be affecting your appetite any,” Vicky retorted.

  Sloan sliced open her baked potato and added a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkle of cheese. This was a heavier meal than she was accustomed to in the evening, but it was their last night in The Bunker and the food smelled delicious.

  Evelyn didn’t seem to share Sloan’s sentiment. “Ugh. I think my steak just mooed.”

  “What are you talking about?” Travis stuffed another bite into his mouth. “Medium rare is the only way to eat a steak.”

  Sloan agreed but kept her opinion to herself as Evelyn pushed her plate away.

  “Please, Travis, help yourself to mine. I wonder if I can get a clean plate for my potato. Just looking at the juices is making me nauseous.”

  The table erupted in laughter and the background music picked up, signaling the start of the festivities. An hour flew by with light conversation, several rounds of drinks, and a slice of strawberry cheesecake for dessert. For the first time all weekend, Sloan began to relax and even enjoy herself—something that rarely happened since becoming a surgeon.

  At eight sharp, the wait staff reentered the hall and quickly removed all remaining dishes, the centerpieces, and tablecloths, leaving behind only their glasses.

  “Guess we’re getting the boot,” Travis slurred. For every round of drinks the table had ordered, Travis had requested a double. “Wonder if that means we’re gonna have to get our own drinks from now on.”

  Vicky snatched the glass away from his mouth. “We’ve been going two at a time and getting the drinks, you lush.”

  “Oh.” He snatched his drink back. “Remind me to tip you all at the end of the night.”

  Sloan rose from her seat, excused herself, and headed for the ladies’ room in the corner of the hall. Many people had left their tables to socialize as the cocktail portion of the evening began.

  There was no line, much to her surprise, and all the stalls were open. Sloan chose one in the middle and sat there for a moment more than needed, soaking up the silence. As she went to leave her stall, the main door opened. Something about the woman’s rushed footsteps made Sloan take a step back and wait.

  “Mama? Is everything okay?” the woman whispered. How was it she had a phone when everyone else's was confiscated upon arrival? “And Poppi?” Another brief pause. “Where would they have taken him?”

  The panic in her voice caught Sloan off guard.

  “I overheard a few people talking. Whatever this is, it’s bad. The cities will fall within hours. You must take Isabella and get out. Go to the lake house. There should be enough supplies there to last a few weeks.”

  Cities will fall? What did that mean?

  “No, Mama! Do not wait for me. I’m not sure when they’ll open the doors and allow us to leave.”

  Sloan leaned closer to the sound of the voice. When she did the toilet sensor must have detected the absence and flushed.

  “I have to go, Mama.
Leave now. Tell no one where you are going. I’ll see you both soon.” The woman rushed out as quickly as she arrived.

  Sloan left the confines of her stall, washed her hands absentmindedly, and left the bathroom. Her mind reeled with everything she’d just overheard.

  “Had too much to drink already, Slash?”

  Sloan paused and looked up to find Archer no more than a foot in front of her. She was dangerously close to walking straight into him. How many others had moved out of her way as she ambled back towards her table?

  “I was just kidding about the whole too much to drink comment, but now I’m thinking I’m not too far off.”

  Sloan’s head pounded. “What?”

  “Are you okay, Slash?” His voice was soothing, placid as he knew the panic welling inside of her.

  “Did you see a woman rush out of the ladies’ room?”

  Archer frowned. “I didn’t but I wasn’t exactly paying attention. Something wrong with her?”

  “Maybe…” She ran her hands through her hair. “She had a phone and was speaking to her mother about—”

  “Wait a minute. She had a phone? That’s against policy. Do you know what she looked like?”

  Sloan shook her head. “I never saw her. But the phone was not the most disturbing part. It was the conversation she was having.”

  “About The Bunker?”

  Hair lifted on the back of her neck at the memory. “No. She spoke of cities falling.”

  His expression blanked. “Are you sure?”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the intercom voice returned, “if you would kindly return to your seat, we have an announcement.”

  “Come on.” Archer placed a hand on Sloan’s lower back and guided her towards the door. “There’s a panel in the hall. I’ll see if I can find out who it was.”

  A soldier blocked the door. “Sorry, Major. No one is to leave the dining hall until the announcement has been made.”

  Archer stepped forward moving into the menacing man’s personal space. “We’ve met, haven’t we? Though I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”

  “Yes, sir. Tony Russo, sir.”

  “You know who I am, correct?”

  Russo’s face remained unwavering. “Yes, sir. But I have orders—as we all do—not to let anyone pass until the announcement is over.”

  Sloan and Archer both glanced around the room. Each of the doors was now guarded by an armed man. “On whose authority?”

  “The execs, sir.”

  “Shit,” Archer mumbled as the soldier returned to his post. “Go back to your seat, Slash. I’ll try to find out what the hell is going on.”

  She didn’t argue and found her seat just as the projector screen descended from the ceiling. There was something unnerving about the whole situation.

  Evelyn leaned over and whispered, “Did Archer know what was going on?”

  Before Sloan had a chance to respond, the last person she expected to see appeared on the screen: The President of the United States.

  ***

  The room fell silent. President Edward Patterson sat behind a small desk in a make-shift office with an unnatural stillness. An American Flag hung on the cavern wall behind him. It took Sloan a moment to realize he too was The Bunker.

  His expression was grave and his normal youthful demeanor was replaced with an unsmiling, unfocused stare that could only mean one thing: the announcement wasn’t good.

  “My fellow Americans,” President Patterson began, “first, on behalf of our great country, I would like to personally thank every one of you for joining us this weekend.” He dropped his head and swallowed so hard the sound echoed off his microphone. When he raised his head, his eyes were wet and bloodshot. “Secondly, I owe each of you an apology. I’ve always considered myself an honorable man. My word is as important to me as the air I breathe.” Another extended pause. “It’s with a heavy heart I share with you my deception.”

  The sound of Sloan’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears.

  “We brought you here under false pretenses, not out of malice but out of fear. Fear that without each of you the world as we know it would be lost. I will spare you the tedious details and get straight to the point.” He lifted his wrist to check the time. “Approximately five minutes ago, an asteroid close to six miles wide struck the earth. An asteroid this size is known as a global killer. Over the course of the next few months, billions of lives will be lost, as will most of the animals and vegetation.”

  The room erupted in a mixture of cries and gasps. Sloan couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening.

  The President continued without haste. “We’ve known about this potential impact for years and the most brilliant minds of our generation—you know them as the VIPS—devised a plan. That plan manifested into The Bunker. However, The Bunker does not work without survivors—without you, the men and women who sit before me today. That is why the doors of this place were sealed the moment everyone was accounted for and they will not re-open until the world above us is deemed safe once again for human life. Whether this is a year from now or ten, we do not know for certain and will not know until the dust has settled, so to speak.”

  Sloan lifted her wine glass from the table and with a shaky hand drained its contents in a single gulp. Tears stung the back of her eyes but she refused to shed even a solitary drop. No. She would save her grief for when she was alone. Just as she did when her parents passed.

  “Each of you have been chosen for your expert knowledge in your particular field and for your lack of…” He paused as if searching for the most political way to end his thought. “Please do not take this the wrong way…for your lack of family ties.”

  Sloan, Evelyn and Archer’s coincidental family histories suddenly made sense. In an act of pure desperation, Sloan searched for Archer in the crowded room. She needed to see his face, his reaction to this bomb that had been dropped upon them. Had he known this entire time or had he too, along with the rest of those under him, been kept in the dark?

  The room was a blur of people and no single face stood out. Maybe it was the excess of wine that affected her vision. Though the more logical explanation was she was suffering from shock.

  “Not only have you been chosen to carry on your expertise, but you will also be charged with repopulation.” This silenced the room. “Based on extensive genealogical and personality testing, each of you has been paired with your perfect match. Effective immediately, you will begin to cohabitate with this person in order to get to know one another other. Children will not be expected nor allowed for five plus years.” Patterson allowed a few moments for this to sink in. “I know this sounds barbaric, but we must look beyond ourselves to see the bigger picture. It is the only way humanity will survive.”

  Muffled sobs echoed off the rocky walls. A few people demanded the doors be opened for anyone who wished to leave.

  “If we open the door, all will be lost.” Patterson’s voice echoed, silencing the crowd once again. “Everyone here will die the same horrid death as those outside.” His image was replaced by that of a city engulfed in flames. “This is what half of the world now looks like. The other half is covered in water. There is nothing we can do but honor those people who have perished by ensuring we survive.”

  Sloan covered her mouth, unable to process another word.

  “A mandatory thirty-six-hour lockdown has been set. All will remain in their rooms until called upon for orientation. You will be escorted to your new living quarters by the soldiers positioned at the doors. All your belongings have already been moved to your new home.” His face softened for the first time tonight. “I know this is overwhelming and each of you are sick with grief. Though none of you had family to speak of, I’m sure there were others in your life you were close to and now have lost. I have no words to express how sorry I am for bringing you here under false pretenses and denying you the opportunity to say goodbye. My actions will forever leave a scar on m
y soul. One for which I will have to answer to when I’m called before our Lord.” He fiddled with his signature cross that hung around his neck. “We couldn’t risk The Bunker being overrun due to mass hysteria. I hope in time each of you will be able to come to terms with this tragedy and find happiness once again. For now, please find solace in knowing you have done your country a tremendous service by just being here. We will speak again soon. Goodnight.”

  With that, the projector turned off and the room erupted into chaos.

  ***

  It took almost an hour for the guards to get the dining hall back under control. For a moment, Sloan thought there would be a full-on riot, but it seemed those who started the uproar came to their senses. Being held at gunpoint had that effect on people.

  Sloan, along with a dozen others—mostly military—were the last to be escorted out of the hall. They were each given a slip of paper with their room number—located on floor nine—and told the doors had already been reset to coordinate with each individual’s wristband.

  No one spoke as they boarded the elevator. There wasn’t anything to say. The world they knew was lost along with everyone in it.

  Once on their floor, the final group left in silence and ambled towards their rooms. The name of the person the government sought fit to pair them with was not given ahead of time. Probably to avoid awkward introductions in front of the group. It also seemed the pairs were taken to their suites at separate times as no two people stopped at the same room.

  Sloan paused in front of five-thirty-two, which was on the fifth floor and closest to the emergency stairwell. A stairwell that led to the only exit separating them from the outside world. The irrational part of her brain urged her to flee up the staircase towards her freedom. Her logical side talked her off the proverbial ledge. Even if she could make it up the stairs and open the door, what would she find? An uninhabitable world full of death, destruction, and despair?

  Britney and her beautiful family stumbled into Sloan’s mind, nearly dragging her to her knees. She pushed the image aside, not ready to deal with the loss of her family just yet. There would be a time to mourn but out here in the hall was not it.