Apocalypse (The Wasteland Chronicles, #1) (17 page)

“Can you stand?”

“I’m…I’m fine. I just do not care for
spiders.”

She began to sit up, and crawled to the couch
where Samuel was. I helped her over to him.

“Makara,” he said.

“Samuel, you idiot, why did you go ahead?
What were you thinking?”

Samuel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I saw
something and didn’t want to risk everyone.” He struggled to move.
“Can you get me out of this damn thing?”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Spider silk,” Makara said. “Luckily it isn’t
too thick. It shouldn’t take long to pull off.”

For the next few minutes, we cut and tore at
the spider thread. Soon, Samuel burst out and stood next to us, and
began to pull the icky stuff off his clothes.

“I’m glad it didn’t bite me,” he said. “I
would have never imagined such a thing could grow to that
size.”

“This xenovirus can do some very scary
things,” I said.

Makara nodded her agreement. “I just wonder
what else is in this place.”

As Samuel led us out of the room, I had the
feeling we were about to find out.

Before leaving the room, I switched out my
Beretta’s magazine. I had a feeling I would be using it before
long.

“Go left here,” Samuel said.

We turned. This entire side of the Bunker had
been completely taken over by the xenovirus. The floor was carpeted
in pink and purple fungus and strange stalactites hung from the
ceiling, dripping slimy liquid. We did our best to avoid them.

When we turned into a long hallway, my breath
caught at the sight before me. We had entered a gigantic chamber
and now stood on a metal bridge spanning darkness. Below, the
shapes of large machines, now dark and defunct, filled the
cavernous space. These had been the nuclear reactors that had once
powered the entire Bunker. They were offline now – the dorms must
have been running on a backup source of some sort.

Across the bridge were three sets of metal
doors.

“The elevators are ahead,” Samuel said.

We started across the bridge, our footfalls
echoing hard off the metal.

We were a third of the way across when a
massive shape sailed through the air from one of the machines. It
plummeted onto the bridge right in front of us.

It was a giant humanoid, probably three times
the height of a person. Sickly pink flesh covered its entire body
without a trace of hair. Long claws extended from its massive
hands. Its eyes were narrow slits, white and glowing. Muscles
bulged under sinewy skin, ready to inflict destruction. Bloody
gashes, dripping purple goo, writhed up and down its body. Its reek
made me feel as if a tsunami of raw sewage was washing over me.

A low rumble sounded from its throat.

“Kari,” Samuel said.

Kari charged. Makara lifted her gun and
fired, six times, but hitting only the monster’s muscular chest.
All of the shots penetrated, but did nothing to slow her. Samuel
also fired a few shots, but only managed to hit Kari’s
shoulder.

I aimed my gun for the head.

Bam
.
Bam
.

I missed twice. She was near, and took a
swipe for my gun. It clattered to the grated metal bridge and slid
away, almost falling off the edge.

Makara worked to reload, but the beast had
turned on her. Makara pulled out her knife and took a swing, her
face grim. She made two deep slashes on Kari’s abdomen. The
creature screamed, and slammed against Makara. Makara banged
against the handrail, wincing in pain.

I dropped to the floor to get my gun. But
somehow Kari saw me. As she turned to go after me, Makara stabbed
her in the leg.

Kari howled, the thick muscles under her thin
skin flexing. Purple slime surged from her wounds. She swung her
right arm in a wide arc, pummeling Makara on the shoulder. Makara
dropped her gun, the force of the blow knocking her hard against
the railing – so hard that she was being pushed over the edge of
it.

This time she was going to fall.

“No!”

I ran forward, but Samuel got there first. He
grabbed Makara’s hands, pulling her back. Kari roared, rearing high
on her legs. She raised her right arm, readying a swipe to finish
them both.

I charged, going for Kari’s giant legs. My
shoulder met the mass of flesh and muscle. Kari’s knees buckled and
her knees slammed onto the bridge.

I heard foreboding creaks ring out from both
sides of the chasm.

“The bridge is going to fall!” I shouted.

Makara and I grabbed Samuel and ran for the
elevators.

We ran as fast as we could, Samuel loping
along. He started running too, outpacing the both of us.

The bridge began to fall. Samuel and Makara
reached the landing in front of the elevators, but I felt the
bridge falling from under me. Kari was just steps behind. I jumped,
sailing through the air. Makara reached out for me. Samuel grabbed
her from the back. When I landed in Makara’s arms, she held on
tight. Samuel pulled mightily backward on Makara, causing me to
fall forward onto her and safely onto the landing.

Behind, I heard Kari let out a horrible
shriek that echoed throughout the chamber. I turned to see her
flailing on the bridge, getting entangled in it. There was a
massive crash as the bridge hit the bottom floor.

We lay there for a while, catching our
breaths. I couldn’t believe we were still alive.

Samuel stood, and walked toward the edge of
the platform.

“She is at peace, now,” he said.

Samuel walked past us to the elevator doors.
With his powerful arms and shoulders, he forced them open. He went
inside, reached for the ceiling, and opened the escape hatch.

After all we had been through, especially
after surviving Kari, climbing the elevator shaft was easy. We took
frequent breaks. I didn’t know how high it was, but we were
climbing the ladder for at least thirty minutes.

When we reached the top, I saw that the
elevator doors were already halfway open. Bracing his feet against
the side of the ladder, Samuel was able to push the doors further
apart, just enough so that we could all squeeze through.

I was the last one up, and when I walked
through the doors, I found a foyer lined with dust. The room was
circular in shape, and a long, wide corridor sloping upward led
out.

Makara shined her flashlight ahead.

“This is the Nest,” Samuel said. “The motor
pool will be by the front entrance.”

The place, apart from the dust, was
surprisingly clean. Samuel was right; no one had been here in a
long, long time. However, there was a thin trail running through
the dust to a heavy side door. Some people had come through here,
although it hadn’t been anytime recently.

“That’s the way in,” Samuel said. “Just a few
minutes more, and we’ll be out of here.”

We were in the front entry hall. I imagined
what it must have been like, all those thirty years ago, when the
panicked refugees had filed in to go down those elevators and never
come back up.

There was a keycard slot next to the door,
but when Samuel tried the latch the door opened right up.

We stepped into the motor pool. It was so
dark that it was all Makara’s flashlight could do to illumine the
place. The place smelled of oil and machinery. It reminded me of
our own motor pool at Bunker 108.

Then we saw them. There were three Recons,
all lined up and facing outward toward large, pull-up garage doors.
They each had four wheels with thick, serrated all-terrain tires,
and plenty of suspension to hold up the chassis. Each one was a
light brown desert camo, and the cabs were thin and aerodynamic,
hanging low to the ground. These things were built for speed. There
looked to be enough room for four people in each. A turret was
mounted on top of each Recon, from which pointed the barrel of a
long machine gun. The gun’s height above the Recon meant it had
360-degree rotation and would have no problem shooting over the
cab. Below the machine gun was a sizeable space for cargo. The
hydrogen fuel tank would be in there, right behind the cab.

“Wicked,” I said.

“Let’s check them out,” Samuel said.

We inspected all three. Each one’s cargo bay
was filled with parts, a couple of spare tires, tools, and even
some rations and water. The hydrogen fuel tank was set into the
wall on the right-hand side of the cargo bay. A glass pane revealed
water inside the metal, cylindrical tank. Below the tank, machinery
pressurized and converted the water into hydrogen and oxygen. The
hydrogen would feed into the yellow fuel lines that led to the
engine. The exhaust, consisting of oxygen and water vapor, would be
emitted into the air outside. The hydrogen pressure tank would have
to have been kept here, being too large to fit anywhere else.

Various shelves lined both sides of the cargo
bay, and two lockers sat opposite of the fuel tank – probably
designed for weapon storage. To the right of the lockers was a
metal ladder, leading to a hatch in the ceiling. This was the
access to the turret above.

“Very cool,” I said.

We gathered all we could into the center
Recon’s cargo bay. While filling it up, I noticed that there was
another hatch at the very front of the bay, leading to the cab. I
went to try the latch, but found it locked.

Maybe I could open it from the other side. I
left the Recon, went around the vehicle to the passenger door, and
opened it up. Two low seats were in the front of the cab, along
with a retractable jump seat in the middle. A long, single seat was
in the back of the cab with enough space to seat three people. But
the middle part of that seat was the coolest feature of the Recon,
in my opinion. It looked designed to fold up, and after seeing the
hatch in the cargo bay, I knew exactly why.

I opened the cab door and pulled myself into
the Recon. I placed two hands on either side of the retractable
seat, pushing it up and folding it. As I did so, it clicked. The
seat swung outward, into the cargo bay, where both Makara and
Samuel looked up at me in surprise.

“What’s up?”

Makara chuckled, but Samuel was not as
amused. “We need to hustle. There’ll be time for exploration
later.”

I nodded. He was probably right. But at the
same time, this Recon gave us a lot of tools to work with. That is,
if we could get it out of this garage and down the mountain.

I walked into the cargo bay and pushed the
hatch into the wall. It clicked shut. I tried the latch again,
finding that it opened right up this time. It had somehow unlocked
on its own when I opened it from the other side. Why this interior
hatch would need a lock in the first place, I had no idea.

We all hopped out of the cargo bay and into
the garage.

“Needs a key to start, though,” I said.

“They’re over here, on the wall,” Samuel
said, taking one down. “This one should do it.”

I held out my hands. Instead of tossing it to
me, he handed it off to Makara.

“Hey,” I said.

“You don’t know how to drive,” Makara
said.

“And you do?”

“It’s been a while, but yeah. The Lost Angels
had a Recon, so I know how to pilot it.”

“I want to learn.”

“Maybe later.” Makara put an index finger to
her chin. “She needs a name.”

Everyone stopped, and thought a moment.

“We’ll think of something later,” Samuel
said. “A good name is important. We have to get it right.”

Makara nodded. “You’re right. Have we got
everything?”

“I think so,” Samuel said. “Fire her up.
Alex, help me with the garage door.”

Makara opened the driver’s door and hopped
in. The Recon started with a roar that faded into a low hum. The
hum came from behind the cab, where the hydrogen fuel tank was
building pressure.

Samuel and I unlatched the garage door,
pulling it up to reveal the outside. Light flooded the garage,
blinding me for a moment. The cold mountain air rushed in, stinging
my face with cold.

When my eyes adjusted, I was startled to see
the sky above, not a dull red, but a blue violet. We were above the
low-hanging clouds.

Directly above, I saw the sun for the first
time in my life.

I didn’t have time to enjoy it, though.
Samuel tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed down the disused road
curving around the mountain. My eyes narrowed.

Walking up the path were five men, maybe two
hundred yards away. They stopped, clearly seeing us.

“Inside the Recon,” Samuel said. “Now.”

We ran into the garage as the first shots
were fired.

I had no idea how, but Brux had found us.

We piled in the Recon. Makara turned on
us.

“How the
hell
did they know we were
here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Just drive!”

Makara shifted into drive and floored it. The
engine roared and the pressure tank behind us hummed. The tires
squealed on the pavement as the Recon roared onto the dirt road
covered with snow.

“Careful,” Samuel said. “This road is
narrow.”

“They’re straight ahead,” I said. “Makara, I
don’t think you should…”

“Get down,” she said.

The Raiders opened fire on us. Bullets dinged
off the hood and hit the windshield. Three bullets cracked the
glass.

“Here we go,” she said.

I heard men yelling from the sides of the
vehicle, but no telltale squishy bumps.

The guns fired a few more times, but we were
in the clear. We sped past them.

“Next stop, Bunker One,” Makara said.

“Makara,” I said, “don’t ever try that
again.”

She cracked a smile. “It worked, didn’t
it?”

“Yeah, but you could’ve been shot.”

She shrugged. “Are you really complaining
here?”

I sighed. “I guess you have a point.”

We rounded a bend. Thick red clouds spread
below us like a blanket, and mountaintops poked through in jagged
peaks. We would be entering those clouds soon. Already they were
closer.