Darkness (4 page)

I realized that
we
weren’t saying anything, either. Maybe she was freaked out by
us.
She was obviously someone who had lived here, who had survived, only...

...I had no idea who she was.

Anna held her blade before her. I took a step forward, but Anna placed a hand on my shoulder, not allowing me to go any further.

I was trying to recognize this woman’s face – but either time, the darkness, or something else made recognition difficult.

“You don’t remember me, Alex?”

The voice was soft, somewhat raspy. Little-used. Coldness crept over me at the mention of my name.

The woman took a few steps forward.

“Slowly,” Anna said.

The woman paused, as if noticing Anna’s weapon for the first time. She knelt and gently laid her pole and hook on the ground, never breaking eye contact with Anna. Then, she crawled forward on her hands and knees. Just seeing her do that made me cringe for some reason.

“Look, you don’t have to...” I said.

“That’s close enough,” Anna said.

The woman stopped. Anna took a step forward, still about fifteen feet distant from the woman.

“Now, stand.”

Slowly, the woman stood. In the light of my flashlight, I could finally see her face. I recognized her now, and it was hard not to gasp. Her name was Ruth Massey. Her blue eyes, once so full of life, were now dull, pained, haunted. Blood and slime matted her hair, dirt stained her face, and hunger had hollowed her cheeks. There was a savage, dangerous intensity to those eyes that was nothing like the woman I remembered. She had been married to an Officer and had worked in storage. I didn’t think she’d had a kid. I hoped for her sake that she hadn’t.

And even after all of these thoughts passed through my mind, I
still
wasn’t entirely sure that it was her.

“Ruth?” I asked.

Slowly, she nodded. She did not speak; it was if she had forgotten what speech was. I didn’t think three months was long enough to do that. But if she survived here for three months, there was no telling what that could do to a person – especially someone who had been so gentle and kind before.

“Are you the only one left?”

She looked up at me with those haunting eyes, windows into a pain that went beyond anything I could ever imagine.

“The only one.”

Chapter 3

Ruth retreated, grabbing her pole once more. Anna’s grip tightened on her katana, but Ruth merely turned.

“Come on,” Ruth said. “You woke the whole Bunker up and we’ll all be dead if we don’t make it back in time.”

“Back?” I asked.

Ruth didn’t answer. She walked away into the darkness. Before I could follow her, Anna grabbed my shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Ruth is alright,” I said. “I know her.”

“You sure?”

From somewhere in the Bunker, I heard the distant yowl of a Howler. Two more Howlers took up the first one’s cry.

“Not like we have a choice, anyway,” I said.

“Come on!” Ruth called from ahead, insistent.

Anna and I ran after Ruth. More howls pierced the air. When we caught up, Ruth led us down the rest of the rock tunnel with surprising boldness, using her pole and hook as a walking stick. Her pace was brisk, but not a jog or all-out run. I wondered why she was taking her time about it.

“When it’s dark,” Ruth explained in a whisper, “they are most attracted to movement. They see well enough in the light so it does you no good to sit still. But when it’s dark, you have to give them a little help before they charge after you.”

As we entered Bunker 108’s atrium, Ruth extended her pole, pointing it outward. Feet shuffled toward us about thirty feet distant. Still, Ruth did not run. Instead she walked to the security door that led downward toward the Hydroponics. It was the same door Khloe, her parents, and I had taken during our escape. That door, normally locked, opened when Ruth pulled on it.

At this sudden movement, a few high shrieks sounded.

“Inside,” she said. “Hurry!”

As more inhuman yips came from the darkness behind, Anna and I rushed inside. Quickly, Ruth followed us and slammed the door shut. She reached toward the corner and lifted a metal bar, which she placed across the handle. Bare feet rushed into the atrium on the other side of the door. Several bodies slammed into the metal door, but it held in place with the bar.

“Too close,” I said.

Ruth nodded. “The story of my life, since that day.”

I saw that Ruth carried no light of her own. I didn’t know if she actually had one, or if she had chosen to make her way around in the dark without one. She must have known Bunker 108 better than anyone. I suppressed a shudder as I pointed my light toward the stairwell ahead, pushing back the darkness.

“Turn that off,” Ruth said. “They’ll see it.”

I snapped the light off, leaving us in pitch blackness.

“Slowly, carefully,” she said. “Put your hand on the rail. When you get to the bottom, follow the wall all the way to the end. You’ll see the light.”

Her voice was so quiet that I could barely hear. We followed her, spiraling down the stairway as more inhuman yowls sounded from the atrium.

“Usually you can make your way around the Bunker if it’s dark enough,” Ruth said. “And if you are slow and patient enough. Not that I try anymore. I have everything I need in Hydroponics. Everything.”

Neither Anna nor I responded. I saw nothing in front of me, and could only hear the breaths and steps of Ruth and Anna ahead. Of all the people to have survived the xenoviral infestation, I would have picked Ruth last. We weren’t close or anything, but I knew her well enough to know here as bubbly, happy, and innocent. I saw none of that, now. Like the rest of us citizens, she could fire and fight as well as anyone. All that latent training must have kicked into gear as soon as the Bunker fell.

Ruth led us down with purpose until we reached the bottom. The corridor led dead ahead. At the end of the tunnel I could see pale yellow light glowing.

“I only have the power on to grow food,” Ruth said. “I don’t want to test it any more than that.”

“You’ve been living here by yourself?” Anna asked.

“Yes.”

Her voice was thin, as if parched. I first thought she might be sick. Then, I realized that her voice was probably weak from lack of use. Existing three months on her own, especially given how extroverted Ruth was, must have been torture. No wonder she had risked her life to rescue us like that.

“Thank you,” I said. “For saving us.”

Ruth didn’t answer. My words seemed to have no effect.

Her silhouette was outlined by the light coming from the Hydroponics Lab. From my position I could smell the thick aroma of vegetation – spicy, sweet, and earthy all at the same time. It instantly took me back to my old life and the memory wasn’t exactly welcome.

All of a sudden, I became aware of the closeness of the walls, the weight of the earth above, this cage of metal known as Bunker 108. I remembered the old stories about how a lot of the first residents went crazy after moving underground – when they realized they couldn’t get back out. It was small wonder that so many Bunkers had fallen. Human beings weren’t meant to be caged like animals. We were meant to be free, even if that freedom meant wandering a Wasteland.

We all stood inside the Hydroponics Lab. Though the lighting was dim, coming only from the grow lights set above the plants, it was still enough to see by. The plants overran their lanes, though small areas appeared to be cultivated. I realized that Ruth could only tend so much of the lab. Back when Bunker 108 was online, dozens of people worked these lanes, all presided over by Khloe’s parents, who ran the lab. Things were different, now. From all appearances, Bunker 108 was now a one-woman operation.

And here stood Ruth, staring at us both. I realized then that she really
had
been living here when I’d thought for sure everyone was dead.

“How did you survive here?” I asked.

Ruth smiled grimly. “Do you really want to know?”

Something from her tone made me wonder if I did.

“Yes. If you survived, maybe there are others, too.”

Ruth shook her head, her hair falling in front of her face. She brushed it out with her free hand, tucking it behind her ears. She set the pole against the wall, heaving a sigh. It was like she didn’t know what to do, or say, with people around. It was the opposite of the Ruth I once knew.

“If you want to know...” Ruth said.

“You don’t have to,” Anna said. “Why don’t we sit down? Relax a bit.”

Ruth gave another smile, this one bitter. “Relax?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You do that, don’t you?”

Ruth shook her head. “I try to stay busy. It helps to keep my mind off things. I tend all the plants, even when I don’t need to. I make sure the irrigation lines are maintained. I’m trying to figure out how the recycling tanks work, how the hydroponics itself recycles.” She sighed. “If I relax, I’ll start to go crazy.”

Anna and I both watched Ruth. She was starting to get fidgety, wringing her hands.

“Let’s just sit down and talk, alright?” Anna said. “About anything. Doesn’t have to be about this place. Actually...it
shouldn’t
be about this place.”

Ruth blinked. “This place is all I know.”

“Let’s change that, then.”

Ruth didn’t answer – she looked away, her blue eyes blank. Living alone under these conditions had taken its toll.

“Maybe we can eat,” I said. “I have some grilled chicken in my pack.”

“Chicken,” Ruth said, saying the word as if it were new. “Haven’t had that in a while.”

Bunker 108 did have a chicken coop separate from Hydroponics, though it was mostly for the eggs the birds laid. Killing and eating the chickens was out of the question, except during special occasions, as they were too valuable a commodity. Those chickens were probably all dead, now. Their food had come from this very room, after all.

“Fine,” Ruth said. “Let’s sit down and talk.”

She turned, pushing her way through several tall tomato plants. Anna looked at me, her eyes questioning. I shrugged before motioning Anna to proceed me.

Ruth led us to a corner of the Hydroponics Lab. There, she had arranged several blankets to make a floor of sorts, something to take away from the hard, cold linoleum. There were several polyester sacks, filled with produce. My stomach rumbled – it had been hours since breakfast. Ruth sat on the blankets, leaning her back against the wall, stretching her legs out. Her hands became fidgety, not used to being idle.

Anna and I sat down with her. Nothing was said for a long moment. I took off my pack, reaching inside of it. I pulled out the chicken – two grilled breasts wrapped in a reusable plastic bag.

I handed mine to Ruth. “Here.”

“I don’t want it.”

Even though she said that, her eyes told me she did.

“You haven’t had protein like this in a long time,” I said. “You need it.”

“We have a walnut tree in here,” Ruth said. “Or did you forget?”

“What happened to the others?”

Ruth shrugged. “There were three, but I only take care of the one. Just me, after all.”

Ruth reached into one of the polyester sacks, retrieving a plastic container filled to the brim with walnuts, already husked for their kernels.

“You’ve been busy,” Anna said.

Ruth, at last, gave a smile. “Nothing but time down here.”

She took a handful of kernels, popping them into her mouth. She then passed the container to us. I took a few of the kernels in my hand, looking at them for a moment before eating them. Walnuts were one of the many amenities I missed from this Bunker. As they crunched in my mouth, I reached for more.

Ruth had already unzipped her chicken and was eating it, mixing it with some of the walnuts.

“It’s good,” she said.

We ate for a while in silence. I grabbed some tomatoes in one of the sacks, handing one to Anna and placing the rest in a pile before us. I bit into it; the flavor was sweet and juicy.

Ruth licked her fingers and took another handful of walnuts. She began to talk.

“When everything happened,” Ruth began, “I hid in a closet in the Caf. Mark...he died, but told me to run right before those monsters got him.”

I remembered that Mark Massey had been an Officer, and Ruth’s husband. He was tall, broad-shouldered, known for his smile and laugh as much as Ruth was. Charismatic. People believed he had a bright future among the Officers in Bunker 108. So many bright futures had been dimmed that day.

“I locked myself in a pantry in the kitchen and didn’t come out for two days. I only came out after everything went quiet.”

Ruth stared ahead. She recited this clinically, as if it had happened to someone else.

“When I came out, I found this pole in the hands of a dead Officer. I picked it up just in time to kill a few monsters I didn’t realize were there. Then I ran.”

“To here?” Anna asked.

Ruth nodded. “I had my pole and I just jabbed any one of those things I saw and tried not to look at them.” She paused. “I didn’t want to know who they were – who they had been. That just made it worse.”

“Were there any Howlers in the Hydroponics Lab?”

“No,” Ruth said. “One small miracle. Maybe they didn’t have time to spread that far. Still, after I barred myself in, I checked every single lane at least three times, every square inch of this place. Only then did I sleep.”

“And you’ve been here ever since?” I asked.

Ruth nodded. “For the most part, yeah. I’ve come out a few times. Once, to try and escape. That’s when I met
him.
I should have said...there
is
another survivor. A man.”

“Who?” Anna asked.

Ruth shook her head. “I’ve thought about this a long time. I’ve never really gotten a good look. But one time, I did – it was the time I tried to escape. He was no one I’d ever seen before. Which confused me. I mean, I knew
everyone
in this Bunker. Everyone. We all did. And I had never seen that man before.”

“Who could he be?” I asked.

“A few weeks ago, I realized who he was. Which explained why I’d never seen him before.” Ruth looked at me, her eyes intent. “Old Darcy.”