America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival (22 page)

Chapter 41 ~ Desperate

They found themselves in a dirt room barely big enough for everyone to sit. No one spoke, but their rapid breathing echoed the pace of their hearts and the adrenaline racing through their bodies. Not that any of them could see in the pitch black, but there were wooden support beams in the corners and across the ceiling of the manmade cave. In spite of years of neglect, the room was remarkably well preserved. The quality of the build reflected the determination of the slaves who created it generations ago. The fact that it had remained secret all those years was another one reason it was still intact. If the slave owners of the day had known of its existence, they would have destroyed it, and severely punished those who built it. The punishment would have been enough to deter others with similar ambitions. The irony of it all was not lost on Bert, who hadn’t been in this room since his teenage years. At that time, it was simply a place to hide from the adults. The tunnels were all about freedom. They freed slaves from their masters, children from their parents, and now, law-abiding American citizens from rogue terrorists.

Dawson was grateful for the pitch black of the room. It meant those around him couldn’t see the fear and uncertainty on his face. It also meant that he didn’t have to see that same look on the faces of his children. He felt responsible. His decisions led them here. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought the kids to Texas. Maybe he shouldn't have joined the Army. Maybe he should have worked harder on his marriage. Would trouble have found them anyway?
Don’t be ridiculous
, he told himself.
The CME affected millions; everyone is suffering now. There are plenty of bad things that happen in life that no one has control over. How we react is what separates the winners from the losers, the happy from the depressed, and the bugs from the windshields. It’s the little decisions that we all make day-to-day. Like deciding whether or not to have that next drink. Or more specifically, deciding whether or not to have that first drink. We all decide what and who is important in our lives.

Veronica sat close to Dawson, huddled up against him. He could feel her breathing slowing to a relaxed pace. She still held firmly onto his hand, but her grip was not as vise-tight as before. He couldn’t see her, but could sense her nodding off to sleep. Dawson wished he could do the same, but his mind searched for answers. In spite of the dark, he felt everyone was staring at him. Most piercing of all were Chase’s, who sat directly across from him.

Bert was the first to speak. “We used to spend hours down here as kids. I’m sure our mothers were nuts with worry, thinking we were lost in the woods or dragged off by wild animals. At least, that’s what we told them when we got back. I had a buddy Patrick, who used to make up these fancy stories about fairies and elves and ogres. He was the one that handled the parents when we got back with tall tales. The stories were so outrageous, they made for a good distraction. We didn’t want them to find out about the tunnels, and lose our favorite hangout. Patrick’s stories were crazy. He’d have the parents rolling in laughter by the time he was done. Pretty soon, they forgot about asking us where we’d been, and we didn’t have to lie about the tunnels. I wonder what happened to Patrick. I heard a rumor that he moved to New York City. Why the hell anyone from Big Springs, Texas would want to move to New York City is beyond me. I sure would like to hear some of those stories now.”

“Something tells me that this is not the time to be telling ghost stories,” Maggie said. “I think figuring out what we do next might be a better idea. Does anyone else find it stuffy in here? At first I thought it was just everyone’s heavy breathing from the chase, but it still seems like the air is too thick to breathe.”

“Like I said,” answered Bert. “We spent hours down here as kids running around and no one ever passed out from lack of oxygen. We never found any air vents, but I always figured the tunnel had natural ventilation. That was years ago though, and I’m sure things have changed since then. The air passageways could be filled with rocks or dirt or dead gophers. Maybe we’ve got too many people in this small space. We should spread out. If I remember correctly, there are other rooms. We were going to draw a map of the place at one time, but never got around to it. We were always too busy smoking cigarettes and talking about girls.”

Veronica stirred awake. “They don’t have spiders down here, do they, Daddy? You know I hate big spiders. I don’t mind little ones, they just run away when I turn on the lights.”

“I don’t think so,” Dawson lied. “Spiders like hanging out in houses a whole lot more than dark, dirty tunnels. They’re kind of like people when it comes to that sort of thing. A cupboard full of crackers is a lot more interesting than a stuffy room full of muck.”

“Spiders don’t like crackers, Daddy.” Veronica giggled. “They like cookies, ice-cream, and gummi bears.”

“Well then.” Dawson smiled in the dark. “I guess that makes you a spider then.”

“I don’t like all those things. Only the cookies and ice-cream. I never eat gummi bears, that would be gross. Bear wouldn’t like it if I did. He says that gummi bears are his cousins, twice removed.”

“But I thought you loved gummi bears, kiddo. You ask for them every time we go to the bulk store.”

“Oh, they’re not for me, Daddy. They’re for all the spiders. That’s why we never have any in the house; didn’t you know? I spread the gummi bears around the outside of the house and near all the doors. That way before a spider comes into the house, it gets distracted by the gummi bears. It gets so fat from eating a whole gummi bear, it explodes and dies. I have a couple under my bed, just in case a few sneak in. Otherwise, they’ll crawl into my mouth while I’m sleeping.”

Suppressed chuckles filled the damp room, and at least momentarily the gravity of their situation was forgotten.

“I wouldn’t mind having some of those gummi bears right now,” Jake said. “Not that I’m a spider or anything. Don’t you worry about that, Veronica. I was just thinking about my half eaten breakfast.”

“You mean to tell me that Mr. Preparedness didn’t bring along a stash of food?” Maggie said as she elbowed Jake. “I know these digs may not be as fancy as the ones you’re used to but a backpack full of food would be nice to have.”

“Well, hon, believe it or not, but racing through slave tunnels being chased by terrorists was not on my agenda for the morning. Even Superman makes mistakes.”

“You don’t happen to have a flashlight or matches, do you?” Chase asked. “Might be nice to see where we’re going. We are going to get moving, right? I get the feeling those guys chasing us aren’t going to give up easy. We should start thinking about a way out of here. Bert?”

“I’ve got a small light on my Swiss army knife,” Bert said. “I may not be Mr. Preparedness, but I always have my knife with me. I was thinking we could just go out the way we came in. It’s been so long since I’ve been down here, I’m not sure I remember the layout very well.”

“I’ve got a couple of granola bars,” Maggie said. “They won’t go too far with the six of us, but at least we won’t have to share them with spiders.”

Veronica giggled. “I like granola bars, Maggie.”

Maggie split up the bars and passed them around. It wasn’t much, but the taste of a little something in their mouths bolstered their spirits. That was, till they heard the sound of muffled voices in the distance.

Veronica squeezed Dawson so tight, he thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Everyone in the room tried to get up at once, but the limited space of the room had them bumping into each other.

“Alright, everyone needs to settle down,” Jake whispered. “We need to follow Bert. He’s the only one that’s been here before.”

“That was like a hundred years ago,” Chase added sarcastically. “What good is that going to do us now? Getting lost down here won’t help.”

“Chase, lower your voice,” Dawson said as sternly and quietly as he possibly could. “If we can hear them, then they can hear us. Everyone needs to follow Bert now! We can’t go back now, so we’ll have to move deeper into the tunnels. Veronica, take your brother’s hand and don’t let go. I’ll take the rear. Let’s move!”

Bert begrudgingly bumped past people on his way out of the room, and whispered. “You people are putting an awful lot of faith in an old guy that’s lucky to remember where he left his toothbrush.” He turned on his small light. “From what I remember, these tunnels were pretty straightforward, but often doubled back. I do remember Patrick and I went in circles for hours one time. Scared the heck out of ourselves. We thought for sure there’d be nothing left but our skeletons by the time anyone found us.”

Jake whispered into Maggie’s ear, “Help him out, and make sure he doesn’t get lost.” He nudged her to follow directly behind Bert. Chase and Veronica followed Maggie. “You just keep that story in mind there, Bert,” Jake coaxed. “You got out of the tunnels that day, so I’m sure you can do it again. We’ll be right behind you the whole way.”

Jake stayed close to the kids, and Dawson stayed close to Jake. Bert’s small pen light seemed like a search beacon at first, given how accustomed their eyes were to the black. The tunnels were narrow, and old. There were sporadic wooden supports above, but not as many as there were in the first room. The further they walked, the longer the gaps between supports grew. Jake noticed, but didn’t say anything. He signaled silently with his hands to Dawson the lack of supports above them.

Minutes felt like hours in the damp, dark maze. It was hard not to feel like they were going in circles, but they didn’t have many choices. Bert could see down alternate passageways with his light, but they were often blocked by rubble. Moving through the clear passages, they'd occasionally hear muffled voices from above … or maybe behind. Distance was a hard thing to judge in the tunnels. They proceeded by feeling through the dark, while Bert conserved his light's battery. He turned it on only to check new passageways.

Bert became more uncertain with each alternate passage. It was becoming clear that his skills as tour guide were likely no better than anyone else’s. They took one more left turn down a passageway that seemed familiar to Bert, then stopped. It was deathly silent in the tunnels as Bert contemplated another turn. At least when they heard voices, they didn’t feel so alone. Better to feel lonely in a crowd than alone in a tomb.

Dawson wondered what it would feel like to be on his own in the tunnels. There was safety in numbers, but when those numbers included your children, it was different. There was a responsibility to it, and in Dawson’s case guilt. For a second, Dawson looked back nostalgically on his mission in the Middle East. Every member of the team had a job and looked out for one another and themselves. Everyone carried their own weight.

For the first time, Bert turned and headed in the direction they had just come. He squeezed by Maggie and the kids. “Stay right here,” he said quietly to the kids. The tunnel was barely big enough for a single person, so even Veronica had to turn sideways to let Bert pass. He tugged Dawson’s sleeve to follow him just out of earshot from the others. Jake followed them.

“I have no idea where I am,” Bert said. “There are sections that seemed familiar to me, but we always took flashlights or torches with us when we came down here as kids. We used to make markings on the walls to help us know where we’d been. I haven’t seen any markings at all. They must have worn off or it’s too dark to see them. I’m pretty sure that I’ve never been down this passage before. Nothing about it seems familiar. If I’ve ever been this way, I can’t remember it. One of you two should take the lead.” Dawson and Jake looked at one another. “Plus, my light is almost done,” Bert added. “Pretty soon, we’re going to be in total darkness, and I’m worried someone might start panicking and give away our position.”

Dawson answered, “At this point, that might not be a bad thing. As much as I hate to say it, those chasing us are probably better prepared to be down here than we are. They could at least get us out.”

“That’s not a solution, Dawson. That’s surrender,” Jake chimed in.

“I know. I’m just thinking out loud. It’s survival training kicking in. They’re not going to do anything with us down here. At least if they find us we’d be out of here. We could deal with them out there, where we’d have a fighting chance.”

“You’re not thinking straight, Dawson. They’d have all the advantages. Once they get their hands on us in this confined space, they hold all the cards. There’s nowhere to run. Even topside, the odds are all in their favor. Besides, you don’t know they wouldn’t just kill us all and leave us to rot. Saves having to dispose of the bodies, if we're already underground.”

“That’s not the way these guys think. They don’t want to dispose of bodies. They want the world to see. They have an agenda to push, and nothing speaks louder than the corpses of your enemy. I know what these guys are like. I fought them on their turf. They’ll want to use us as leverage.”

“That’s a pretty big risk to take,” Jake said solemnly. “You willing to bet your kids on that assumption?”

Dawson didn’t answer right away. He closed his eyes and nodded his head as his hand covered his mouth. “We need to do something. We can’t just keep standing here. Those guys won’t be.”

“We need to keep moving,” Jake said. Bert started to restate his position, but Jake cut him off. “You two stay back here and I’ll take the lead. I’ve been taking note of the beams supporting this place. They’re all unique in some way; this place is a real mishmash construction. Probably made out of whatever they could scrounge. I’m reasonably sure we’re not going in circles. These tunnels were built to help slaves escape, so they must come out somewhere. I have to believe we’re moving forward. Bert, you don’t have to worry about leading, so focus on keeping an eye out for anything that looks familiar … maybe for some of your old markings.”