Chapter 3
We hike through the forest trees for the next three hours until we reach the bunker. Lucky for us, we don’t come across any threats during the journey over; even though their screams aren’t too far away, like wolves howling in the night.
When Travis came across this bunker while hunting four months ago, he found blood splattered across the surrounding leaves. The trapdoor was flung open, but there was no blood or remains inside the hideout. We never found out what happened to the original owners, but we knew it couldn’t be anything good.
The bunker is an underground storage unit turned shelter. When we first took over, there were a few empty shelves, a pack of water bottles, and four sleeping-bags. Now it’s used for rest breaks and additional food storage. Because of the small size, and unknown visitors, we decided not to keep too many supplies here.
To keep it hidden, we leave the entrance covered up with a pile of broken branches, leaves, and a bear trap. As I inspect the area I find that everything looks disheveled. Travis pushes Ty behind him before stepping closer to the door. When he reaches down, he pulls the camouflage rope up that’s lying out in the open.
With the rope in hand, he looks at me and whispers, “Keep watch.”
My eyes dart through the trees in search of threats that could be lurking in the dark. The only thing I see are the silhouettes of trees blowing in the wind. Travis pulls the rope, causing the door to screech open. Inside the circular opening a metal ladder is attached to the wall below.
“I will go in first to make sure it’s clear. Here,” He says pulling the handgun out of the bag and loading it with bullets from the small pocket inside, “Take this and keep an eye out.”
The black pistol feels heavier in my hand now that it’s loaded. I’m a little embarrassed that I hadn’t noticed the difference earlier. Rookie mistake.
Travis takes the flashlight from the side pocket of his backpack and turns it on. The beam of light flickers a few times before turning on all the way. While he begins to lower himself down the noisy, rickety ladder I shift my focus back to the trees surrounding us.
The wind blows through the pine needles and leaves causing a whistling sound. When I glance back, I find Ty sitting up against the boulder blinking slowly. After walking five miles he must be exhausted. It has to be the middle of the night by now.
“Shit!” Travis’ muffled voice yells from below.
I peek into the hole and whisper, “Travis? Are you okay?”
When he appears at the bottom of the ladder his jaw is clenched shut. His head shakes as he replies, “Clear. Bring Ty and shut the door behind you.” His tense body turns around and stomps away, back into the darkness.
After making sure we’re not being tracked I shut the door above my head, then slide down the short ladder. A few feet to the side Travis is sitting on the ground with a flashlight shining on empty shelving where the food used to sit.
“Wasn’t the food supply in this bunker?” I ask and glance around. Besides us and the bare shelves, the storage container is empty.
“Yeah, it was.” He says through clenched teeth.
“What do you mean? Did you move it?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he sets the flashlight on the ground, standing up; our only light source. When he begins to rub his forehead with both hands, I stand in silence and stare at the beam of light. It shines on the steel ceiling, illuminating the small quarters.
Ty’s hydration pack makes a thud when he drops it on the ground. Quietly, he walks past me to where his dad sits in frustration. He remains quiet as he plops down beside him. After a few seconds, he asks, “Did someone steal it dad?”
“Yeah, someone stole it.”
“A bad guy?”
“I don’t know tiger.” Travis sighs then repeats, “I don’t know.”
His head falls back against the wall as he lets out a heavy breath. When he presses his thick lips together I can tell he’s chewing on the inside of his lip. It’s something he does when he’s stressed or devising a plan. When he begins to mumble to himself, I can tell it’s the latter.
I roll my shoulders back, allowing the heavy backpack to slide off my arms. It makes a loud thud when it drops on the steel floor. My feet move forward a few feet, next to them. Ty’s already resting his head in his lap, his eyes struggling to stay open. When I sit on the other side of Travis, the coolness of the steel floor sends a chill through my entire body. Side by side, he sets his big hand over mine and closes his eyes. Travis isn’t much for talking when he’s upset about something. He’d rather spend that time planning.
My head tilts to the side and rests against his large bicep as if it’s a pillow. He gently tilts his head on top of mine and exhales.
As we continue to sit in silence, I think about where we could go from here. We haven’t been able to find any of our close friends since the invasion. At this point, we’ve accepted that we never will. Everyone used to say that if the country were ever under attack they would come straight to our house. We were the most prepared. When no one came, it became clear what had happened.
That’s it. My eyes widen when I realize what to do. In a soft whisper, so I don’t wake up Ty, I say, “We can go to Bunker 1. We need to go into town for more food and medical supplies anyways.” I squeeze Travis’s hand and shift my gaze upward.
His head lifts off mine. When I look at him, he stares at my face with his lips pressed together. After a couple of seconds, a small smile forms.
“That could work. Let’s leave at dawn.”
Through the semi lit room, I watch him lean his head back against the wall with a small smile. The dimples in his cheeks disappear when his mouth opens wide to yawn. He swallows hard and shuts his eyes. It doesn’t take long before he drifts off.
Once I know that they’re both asleep I slip my hand out from under Travis’, careful not to disturb him. He doesn’t budge as I stand up beside him. Rising to half-toe, I tiptoe across the dirty cement, back to the ladder leading outside. Above my head, I can hear the wind whistling through the night. I’ll need to get higher if I plan on hearing past that noise. My hand grips the metal rods, causing the ladder to make a creaky sound. I crane my head to the side to make sure that Travis and Ty are still sleeping. Their motionless bodies and even breaths answer the question.
I climb to the top of the ladder and press my ear against the cold metal, listening for any threats. After hearing nothing, but trees blowing in the wind for five minutes, I decide that we’re safe.
At least for now.
The Grey Ones Page 3