Bunker 91B

I slapped my mop onto the ground and pushed it lazily. The cleaning crew was the worst, but I only had a few more shifts before my team rotated back to The Garden. That was the name we used for the labs we ‘grew’ chemically enhanced food in. Any job was better than cleaning crap though. 

The lunch buzzer interrupted my mediocre mop job.  

“Hey, did you hear?” Jose ran up behind me and clapped me on the back, “Apparently we’re only a week away from release!” 

I felt my shoulders drop, “They’ve been saying that for years man. We’re not leaving.” 

“No, really!” He insisted, “Marge from the Political Wing told Crazy George that the infection is nearly gone!” 

I stopped and turned toward Jose, letting him see the sarcastic glare I was giving off, “Crazy George is your source?” I let out a mocking cackle and continued down the hall. 

Jose didn’t let my pessimism diminish him, “You’ll see! Today at lunch announcements, we’ll be told. I can feel it!” 

We walked the rest of the dorm hallway in silence coming to the centre of the bunker. The Park we called it. Just a massive circular concrete room with tables and chairs set up for lunch. There were four hallways off The Park. The Dorms, where we lived in closet-sized apartments with our spouse or assigned partner. Then there was The Garden, multiple labs creating foods we ate. There was also a kitchen down there for whoever was on The Garden team that quarter cooked all the meals. The third was entertainment. People assigned to that work got to plan fun activities for all 99 of us to participate in. It’s torture. The final and most prestigious was the Political Wing. A small palm scanner was placed outside that door. Only a select few were allowed in. Those people were in charge of making sure our bunker stayed peaceful and communicated with the outside world. They didn’t have to rotate work assignments. Lucky jerks. 

One of those jerks was my husband Daniel, the bunker psychiatrist. On March 11th, 2020, Daniel was assigned to bunker 91B and I was lucky enough to join him for safekeeping. As the authorities told us, "Just until the infection passes." I wasn't told until we were inside that they anticipated the infection to pass in four years.  

We had a giant clock on the wall in The Park. It told us the time and date of life outside the bunker. I stopped looking at it a long time ago. I swear there were weeks when the date never changed. Then there were times I must have fallen asleep for a month because I would look up and not know where the time went.

Jose was rubbing his hands together in anticipation, “March 9th, 2024. That’s the date we found out we get to leave. Remember it, James. This is the day.” He said to me. 

I scoffed at him and we found the rest of our work team at the usual spot. The Park during lunch reminded me of high school, everyone sat with their own people. It had a high dome ceiling with a stage jutting out from the wall looking down on everyone. Commander Bradford often made speeches from that stage. Early on in our bunker days, every time he walked up to it people held their breath hoping for news about the outside. Like we could leave the bunker, that the infection had dissipated, or that they finally found the cure. However, it didn’t take long for people to give up hope and resign themselves to bunker life. 

It wasn’t hard to stay in line after what they did to Rodger. About a year in, Rodger began a rebellion of whispers. Trying to gain the confidence of others to rise up against Bradford and break out. Bradford found out and exiled Rodger, but he made sure everyone knew what his punishment was. 

A massive screen was rolled into The Park right after Rodger disappeared. During one dinner, it was turned on. Rodger was on the screen. The camera seemed to be placed in the top corner of some kind of cage that he was trapped in. He shook violently at the bars, begging to be let out. It took everyone a few minutes to realize that Rodger was outside the bunker. The light was too bright for that cage to be inside. 

We all watched as Rodger begged and pleaded to be let back into safety. The sound of his voice begging was pumped through every speaker for days. The screen stayed on too. We watched as Rodger contracted the infection and slowly died. His body went beat red, boils began bubbling through in his skin, and he shook like a leaf from the fever. None of us could do anything. We all knew that was our fate if we stepped out of line.

So we stayed in the bunker, quietly going about our days. Some people prayed we would walk out safely and feel the sun again. Not me, there was no point in believing in something that wouldn’t happen.    

Rumours were circulating around the lunch table. “We’re getting out soon.” Everyone had heard from everyone else that it was for sure happening this time. I sat silently and waited for our turn to get up and get food when someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. It was Daniel. 

I reached up to give him a hug and a kiss but he held me down in my seat and crouched down to my level. His aqua eyes were darting around the room, his lips were twitching. “Honey, are you okay?” I asked trying to get him to focus on me.

“No,” he whispered harshly. No one seemed to notice or care Daniel was there. He kept talking while looking around frantically, “You need to sit by the door to The Political Wing.”

“What? Why?” I tried to hold his face but his eyes kept moving around the room. “You’re not making sense.” 

“Just promise me that when that door opens, you will be the first one out.” He grabbed my wrists and kissed them softly, “Go over there now.” He let me go and marched toward the stairs leading up to the stage.  

A hush went over the crowd as everyone noticed Commander Bradford making his way to the stage. By the time he climbed the steps, everyone was silent. He calmly strolled up to the podium and smiled politely while scanning the room. Daniel was sprinting, his shoes clicking on the metal steps and echoing over the silent crowd. He usually stood with the upper brass during announcements, but that day had a different feel. He caught my gaze and tilted his head toward the door, telling me to move. I stood up slowly, all eyes were locked on Bradford so it wasn’t hard to slip to The Political Wing door. 

“Good afternoon all. I walked through the kitchen on my way here and boy it sure smells delightful.” He chuckled from his belly. It was a comforting sound, clearly rehearsed for years. “Now I have some news to share, but I need everyone to remain calm until I’m done speaking.” There was some uncomfortable chatter amongst the group. 

Commander Bradford raised his hands and the crowd settled, “Now, I know many of you have been speaking of release. It is true that our four-year window is only a week away.” Bradford paused for a beat. The crowd had their eyes peeled on him, but my gaze settled onto my husband. He was slipping his hand into his jacket and seemed to grasp something. I could see his arm flexing through his sleeve. “However, I have received word from President Hanning that the infection has mutated, causing another spike in cases and deaths across the world. Luckily, our country acted swiftly placing people like you in safe bunkers for your protection. But I fear that protection will need to be extended for-” His speech stopped instantly as Daniel ran up behind him and jammed a knife into his neck. 

Shock roared across The Park as Daniel pulled the knife out and stabbed him again. Multiple Political Wing figures grabbed at him trying to pull him off but his rage carried on beating Bradford. 

Daniel shot up and turned to face the would-be defenders waving the knife at them. Slashing at anyone who came close. They all stood back holding their hands in the air. Daniel turned to the mic, his panting breath pumping through the speakers. “They’re lying. Our bunker was deemed unnecessary and will be demolished in seconds. Get out now!” He lifted his hand holding the knife and pointed to The Political Wing door, the door I was standing beside. 

Everyone spun toward me. My face went red and I felt the panic in my stomach rise through my chest. I heard it before I saw it. A massive sledgehammer swinging and smashing into the door’s palm scanner. Crazy George was behind the hammer. Once the panel was sparking, he turned his hammer on the door handle. He swung with a roar and sent a metallic clink echo through the gasps. He flung the hammer to the side and drove the heel of his boot into the door. It banged open. 

More screams exploded as someone pointed back toward the stage. I spun just in time to see one of the men on the stage tackle Daniel. They rolled on the floor of the stage a few seconds before Daniel got away for just long enough to scream into the mic, “Go!” 

The fight continued as the crowd just shared confused glances. It was Jose who yelled first, “Let’s go!” He bolted through the crowd right out the door. I felt the wave of air hit me as he ripped past.

Then the panic ensued. The entire crowd fighting against one another to either get to the door or stay away from it. I tried to see over them to get a look at Daniel, but he was lost in the pandemonium. I was caught in the wave rushing out the door. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave Daniel behind. Even if he did just murder a man and create a riot. That wasn’t him, it wasn’t who he was. My mind flooded with questions and fear as the mob pushed me through the hallway before we came to an instant halt. 

“The doors locked!” Someone screamed a few rows ahead of me. 

“Out of my way!” It was Crazy George bulldozing through the crowd holding his sledgehammer high above his head.  

I heard a few whacks of the hammer against the door and before I knew what to do, the crowd erupted forward. I spilled out of the door and caught my foot on the frame. I tripped, flailing my arms in an attempt to catch myself. I felt a hand on my back give me the final shove to the ground. People jumped over me, trying to escape before anything else could happen.

I curled up to cover my head from people stepping on me. I felt kicks, grunts, and screams above me. Then it stopped. I peeked my head up from below my arms and was blinded by the sun. 

The sun. 

It beat down on my face. I felt the heat from the real sun. I shot up to my hands and knees trying to figure out what to do. No one else was running out of the bunker. I scanned the crowd to see if Daniel got out. I couldn’t tell. Everyone ran in a pack toward the forest. Like a rolling flame of panic. 

Then I felt it. The grass in between my fingers. My knees were sinking into soft soil. It was glorious, the feeling of something real. I inhaled deeply pulling crisp, unfiltered air into my lungs. I felt life in my body. 

A familiar whoosh brought me back to reality. A plane was flying above us. It looked like it was circling the bunker. Something or someone dropped from it. I squinted and held my hand at my brow trying to decipher what it was. Daniel’s words came back to me in a rush of despair. 

Our bunker was deemed unnecessary.

I scrambled to my feet and dug my feet into the ground. Pushing myself away and trying to catch up to the group. I didn’t make it. A flash of fire exploded right on top of them. The ground smouldered in a ring of flames. Bodies running away carrying the flames on their back. 

I didn’t have time to take it all in before another explosion erupted behind me. Throwing me forward onto my chest. I rolled onto my back to look at the bunker. But there was no bunker. It was replaced by flames and concrete rubble. 

Daniel was right. Daniel was gone.

I let the fires close in around me, feeling the grass. I tried to pull in the crisp air again. To feel the life in my lungs, but it wasn't there. It was gone.