The New World

by Toby Neighbors

  “Can you believe it?” Lana finally said after the trio had stood rooted to the landing just inside the door for several minutes.

  “It’s much larger than the White House,” Daniel said.

  “Probably bigger than the entire property,” Dakota added.

  “I guess we should check it out,” Daniel suggested, his voice seemed small and insignificant in the immense room.

  There were forty steps down to the main floor and the ceiling was close to sixty feet overhead. The television monitors were all glowing blue, an indication to Daniel that the major news networks were offline. He led the group down the stairs to where stainless steel cafeteria-style tables with stools were lined up. He guessed that approximately a hundred people could eat there, another indication that this bunker was more than just an emergency fallout shelter. This space had been meticulously maintained, and Daniel guessed that it was also fully stocked and staffed.

  “We need to look for survivors,” he said.

  “You think there might be people still alive down here?” Dakota asked.

  “It makes sense,” Daniel said. “Look, it’s obvious that this place was built for much more than the first family, yet no one is around. Wouldn’t there be bodies lying about if they had died down here?”

  “Unless they’re alive,” Lana said hopefully.

  “Or someone has disposed of them all,” Dakota said, her voice flat and eerie.

  “Let’s stay together and search this place. We need to know what all is down here.”

  “Or who, they could be watching us right now,” Dakota said again.

  “Dakota,” Lana said loudly, her voice grating and then echoing in the large chamber.

  “Alright,” Daniel said softly, “let’s just take a deep breath and regain our composure. We’ve got a lot of work to do and none of us wants to think about the people that might have died down here. Let’s just see what all there is to this place.”

  The first offshoot from what they dubbed “the mall” was a large industrial kitchen. It was exactly the same as the one on the first floor except that the walk-in cooler was the size of a warehouse, with rows and rows of canned and dry goods and freezers packed full of meats and cheeses. There were no people and they moved on quickly.

  The next set of rooms were obviously office spaces, with the last room in the series being a large, oval office obviously meant for the president, but instead of being furnished with antique and designer décor, the room was filled with stainless steel and leather. They found no people in the offices either, so they quickly moved on.

  They found large satellite, security, communications, and strategic planning rooms. All filled with exactly the same types of equipment as upstairs, only larger.

  “The rooms upstairs must be linked to the Pentagon,” Dakota said.

  Daniel’s mind flashed back to the president’s journal, which had mentioned that he believed the officials in the Pentagon weren’t sharing all they knew about the spheres. Daniel reminded himself that when they were properly secured here in the White House, he would need to search of the Pentagon for more information.

  “It’s hard to believe this place,” Lana said. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe that no one knew about it.”

  “I’m sure,” Daniel said, “that only the highest government officials knew it existed. And with no real reason to use it before now, it wouldn’t be hard to keep it a secret.”

  Next they found a large section that was obviously a military barrack. There was a room with rows of bunked beds, and a large bathroom facility. There was another room with cubicles, each with game consoles and large monitors. There were long tables and cabinets with games, stationary, and supplies. In the barracks they found more evidence of life than anywhere they had been so far. Some of the consoles in the cubicles were still running the computer games that had been installed. There were decks of cards and trash all over the main room. There were no people in the bunk room, but there were foot lockers, well polished boots, and clothes folded neatly on and beneath various bunks. In the bathroom facilities there were toiletries in various places, some in kits, some spread out along the small, stainless steel ledges under the mirrors. They also found a fitness room with stations of free weights and a myriad of cardio equipment. Inside were towels in hampers waiting to be laundered, and fans blowing on oscillating stands, but no people. It was almost creepy to see themselves in the mirror-lined walls in what amounted to a ghost town.

  “This is too spooky for me,” Lana said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They went on and found a series of rooms that were locked with digital keypads. The hallway leading to the rooms had plush carpeting, with lights in intricate wall sconces. It reminded Daniel of a hotel and he theorized that the rooms were the personal quarters of the officials who would be kept safe in the bunker.

  They moved on and found an extensive library with row after row of books, both fiction and non-fiction. They found recreational facilities: a gymnasium, racquetball courts, a large swimming pool, a movie theater, a bowling alley, even a room that appeared to be a bar, complete with stage and karaoke equipment.

  Still, after hours of searching, they found no people. There was a huge clothes storage area, a laundry and janitorial space. There was a studio with lights and television cameras. There was a ballroom with fancy place settings on round tables with thick tablecloths. The ballroom also had a stage and a wooden dance floor. There was a room with art supplies, canvases set on easels, paints, watercolors, clay for sculpting, and potter’s wheels. There were classrooms with whiteboards and computer work desks. There were even science labs. The last room they came to was an armory lined with large metal cabinets. The upper portions of the cabinets were lined with rifles of various calibers. The lower sections held handguns and ammunition.

  The trio had begun to move through the various rooms without speaking or even commenting on what they found. So when they heard whistling in the armory, as they stood surrounded by rows and rows of weapons, it was only natural that they armed themselves and went to find the source of the whistling.

  Chapter 10

  “Is that whistling?” Lana asked, her voice a husky whisper.

  Daniel's blood ran cold for minute; it felt icy in his veins and made goose bumps pop up all over his body. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up and he pondered the sensation. He didn't know what it was that was making his emotions react this way. Was it that in such a short amount of time he had gotten used to the world being empty? Was it the fact that something as normal and common as whistling seemed so out of place here in what amounted to a mega tomb? Or was it his reaction to all newcomers? Had the spheres made everyone an enemy until proven friendly? It didn't matter really, what mattered now was that they make contact and protect themselves.

  Daniel reached into the cabinet and pulled out a military issue pistol. It wasn't the kind the public had become used to seeing, but the latest version of a compressed gas, fully automatic micro bullet weapon that was only used in special operations. The small bullets were perfectly round and smaller than a kernel of corn, but when fired through the barrel of the pistol, the bullet would flatten out and the edges would become serrated. They would leave a hole in a person the size of a 9 mm bullet, but would hit with the force of much higher caliber weapon. The pistols were powered with tiny canisters of compressed gas that replaced gun powder. When they fired they sounded like a ratchet being turned, only slightly louder, and they could fire at a rate of sixteen rounds per second. They were accurate up to a hundred yards and each pistol clip held just under seventy-five rounds.

  Of course, Daniel had no idea about any of this; he merely picked up the pistol and looked at the digital display that said 75. He didn't know exactly what that meant, but he felt confident the weapon was loaded and ready for action. He found the safety and switched it off, then leaned in close to Lana and Dakota, who were hugging each other, their eyes wide and frightened.r />
  “I'm going to check it out,” he whispered. “You two stay here and listen. I'll call to you when everything is okay.”

  “What if everything isn't okay?” said Lana, desperation making her voice difficult to understand. “Maybe it would be better if we just went back upstairs.”

  Daniel knew the trauma she had endured was like the bitter taste of an aspirin half dissolved before it’s swallowed. He knew the uncertainty of the moment was drawing to the surface issues she needed time to deal with, but he had no time to give her. He knew they couldn't go upstairs and live like there wasn't someone down here. It was imperative that they secure the White House and catalog every resource. If any sort of civilization were to come from this new world, it would be centered here. He couldn't desert it now.

  “We have to know who this is,” Daniel whispered back. “If you hear gunshots, stay together and get out of the White House. Do you understand?”

  Dakota nodded, but Lana shook her head, “Don't leave us.”

  “Trust me. I'm going to be right back.”

  He knew she needed more from him, but he couldn't wait any longer. He felt as if the person that was whistling would walk up behind him any minute and he needed to be ready. He tried to tell himself that the fear was irrational, but it over ran his reason. It was like a storm at sea when a small boat is completely helpless. The wind and waves pushed and shoved, and Daniel's heart was being flung by fear, completely helpless to stop the near panic he felt. Somehow he managed to make his feet carry him forward. The room was long and in the rear there were tables, counter height and stainless steel, like much of the furnishings in the bunker. When he came to the last row of gun cabinets, he tried desperately to steady his breathing. His heart was beating like a racehorse at full gallop, but he knew he had to press on. In the instant before he looked out from his hiding place, he pondered death and wondered if this would be his last moment on earth.

  What would happen, he thought, just darkness, oblivion? At least he wouldn't know that he was dead, wouldn't feel pain, wouldn't miss living. But that just didn't seem right, like the idea that the sun would never rise. It just seemed impossible that he could merely cease to exist in any form. What options did that leave, some sort of afterlife? All he could come up with was a religious or philosophic answer to his question that also made him uncomfortable.

  He stepped out and saw a short man in military fatigues standing ruler straight as he cleaned and oiled the rifle that lay on the table in front of him. Daniel was afraid to startle the man, afraid that he might have to use the gun that his sweaty hand was gripping so tightly. Still, he had to say something. Was a word any more frightening than seeing someone suddenly? No, he would have to say the least intrusive thing he could think of.

  “Hello,” he said quietly.

  The man suddenly froze, the whistling stopped and the silence made Daniel want to scream. He was sweating profusely, he could feel the drops running down his sides from under his arms and down his back, too. His face was hot and his legs seemed as wobbly as a newborn colt’s.

  “I'm not here to hurt you,” Daniel added. “My name is Daniel and I heard you whistling.”

  The man didn't turn around and didn't speak.

  “Did you hear me?” Daniel said, his voice shaking. “My name is Daniel, are you okay?”

  The man laid the gun down on the table and rubbed his face with his hands. He breathed heavily, then started whistling even more loudly, as if trying to drown out Daniel's voice.

  He doesn't think I'm real, Daniel thought. He thinks I'm just a voice in his head. He must be alone down here. He decided to move around to where the man could see him, but he didn't want to do anything abruptly, so he said, “I'm going to come out now.”

  The whistling turned to singing, some bawdy chant that was probably learned in boot camp. Daniel held the gun low and moved slowly around the table. When the man saw him, the soldier’s face went white and his eyes rolled back in his head. He teetered on his feet for a minute and then he toppled onto his side.

  “Lana, Dakota, everything is okay. It's a soldier and he's fainted. Come help me with him.”

  Daniel rushed around to the fallen man. The nametag on his shirt read McPherson. The soldier's head had banged against the concrete floor but seemed to be okay. Daniel was stretching him out as the girls came cautiously forward.

  “Is he alone?” Lana asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?” she grilled him.

  “Because it was obvious he hadn't seen or heard another person in quite a while,” Daniel explained. “When I spoke he tried to ignore me like he was hearing things. When he saw me, he fainted.”

  “Doesn't bode well when a soldier faints like a school girl,” Dakota said.

  Both Lana and Daniel looked at her; she had a way of saying the most unnerving things.

  “He's cute though,” she added after a moment.

  “We need to bring him around,” Daniel said.

  Lana reached out and slapped him on the face.

  “Don't do that,” Daniel said.

  “What else should we do,” she asked a little sharply, “throw water on him?”

  “Why don't we see if there's a first aid kit around here somewhere?” Daniel suggested.

  “Too late,” Dakota said.

  The man was beginning to move his head and his eyes fluttered.

  “You're okay,” Daniel said. “You just fainted.”

  The man looked at them and blinked his eyes rapidly. Finally, he reached up and grabbed Daniel's arm.

  “You're real?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he said and closed his eyes again. “I thought I was going nuts. Wait, where are you from?”

  “Here in D.C., but we've been living upstairs for the last week or so.”

  “Oh, no, you're contaminated.”

  The man began to scramble away in fear.

  “Contaminated with what?” Lana asked.

  “Just stay away from me!” the man shouted.

  “Wait a second,” Daniel said. “Are there people in quarantine down here?”

  “That's classified.”

  “Look, man, the whole world is dead out there,” Daniel said, pointing up. “If you know something we don't, you better spill it.”

  The man was backed against the table, his eyes wide with fear.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean,” Daniel continued, “that nearly everyone has died, probably 99 percent of the people all around the world. What happened to all the people down here?”

  “They're in sick bay.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yeah, anyone with any symptoms had to report to sick bay immediately, president's orders,” explained the man. “I've been alone for about a week now.”

  “They're all dead then,” Dakota said, her voice so flat it didn't sound real.

  “Where's the president?” Daniel asked.

  “In his quarters with his family.”

  “You need to show us this sick bay so we can make sure there are no more survivors besides yourself,” said Daniel. “Then we need to check on the president.”

  “I'm not allowed to go near the sick bay; the risk of contamination is too high.”

  “The damage has already been done,” Daniel said. He suddenly felt very exhausted. He didn't want to educate this man on the horror the world had become. He stood up. “We're going to find the sick bay, then we're going back upstairs to get some rest. I suggest you join us.”

  “My orders–”

  “Are null and void,” Daniel said. “There's no one left to enforce them. Come with us.”

  The man balked for a moment longer, then gave in. Daniel could tell it was against every fiber in the man's being to go against his orders, but the fear of being alone again was too huge to ignore. The man led them to a small stairway near the kitchen. They had missed it on their earlier inspection, but Daniel was
n't surprised. He felt it would be a while before they found out all the secrets to this place. In fact, they might never know. In the meanwhile, he asked the soldier questions.

  “What's your name?”

  “Jason McPherson, Lieutenant, United States Navy.”

  “How long have you served here?”

  “I've been in the Bunk for almost two years. We rotate in a month on one week off. We're officially stationed at Andrews, but this is our duty post.”

  They walked down the metal staircase and came to a landing. The sign on the door said, ‘Sick Bay,’ but the stairs continued down.

  “What's down there?” Lana asked.

  “That's classified, ma'am.”

  “Have you not heard anything we said?” Lana was getting angry. “And I'm no ma'am, I'm no older than you are.”

  Jason looked at her for a minute, then pushed open the door to the sick bay. It was quiet. There was no sign of life anywhere. They walked into the first medical ward and were shocked at the number of bodies. There were men lying in every bed. A few were lying on the floor. The IV drip bags were all empty, the signals having timed out long ago. Daniel led his group through the ward and into another; it was exactly like the first. There were three wards, all full of dead men, and one small ward that was lined with dead women.

  “It looks like you were right,” Jason said, he was visibly shaken.

  “Let's go check on the president,” Daniel said.

  They went back up the stairs and returned to the carpeted hallway.

  “These are the staff quarters; the president's is all the way down.”

  Their feet padded on the soft carpet. They rang the buzzer at the president's quarters, but no one answered. They tried again and again, but it was obvious no one was going to open the door.

  “Can you get us in?” Daniel asked Jason.

  He sighed and punched in a number on the digital keypad. The lock clicked and Jason turned the knob. The door swung open soundlessly, revealing a room much larger than a hotel room. There was a grand piano in the center of the room, plush leather sofas and arm chairs with ottomans. Several other rooms branched off from the central room, but no people were in sight.