𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 50

Creeping Shadows of the Past

2031

Aidan

She could have shot me.

Her finger twitching on the trigger was indicator enough that she'd have done it.

But everything in her posture, the way she trembled when I challenged her, tells me everything. Sina might have been disappointed, but not done with me.

I practically run out of the house, since I'm not sure how fast she'd pick up the chase if Suraya didn't stand against her. If she changed her mind, how she proclaimed.

The cool air around me knocks the breath out of me. I didn't know I'd crave fresh air this much, but filling my lungs with it is reviving.

It's still daytime, but I'm unsure for how long, still. I have nowhere to go.

To the base, yes, but right now, my orientation is just as messed up as my emotions.

Tomorrow, I'll try.

Lost in thoughts for a place of shelter, I bury my hands in my pockets. I have nowhere to go.

Suddenly, my palm closes around a familiar object I swore to myself I'd never touch yet use.

Three times counter-clockwise.

I have nowhere to go besides...

When I pull out the shiny silver keys to unlock the hatch, my eyes widen. My father's bunker – well, technically, it's mine now.

It took me some time – too long, to be exact - and cursing to get back on the road my father walked along with me when he showed me the bunker in the first place. From here on, I can slowly but surely decipher my way forward.

The stiff concrete block appears in the distance.

It's still there – it held through the anomalies so far.

The daylight is already fading, escaping from my grasp.

Are they okay? Suraya and Sina? I don't think that they'd find their way back to the base, with or without me, if I couldn't even manage.

But right now, I'd rather stay a missing-in-action case that'll eventually be forgotten than having to team up with Sina, the girl who was ready to shoot me.

My flashlight begins to flicker at the last few feet before the steel door.

Why right now? Angrily, I smack the case a few times and shake it, to which the light cone somewhat stabilizes.

Three times counter-clockwise.

Why am I doing this? Does bunker life suddenly sound more appealing than living in the base? There, I had everything. Here, I am unsure if I'll even have running water.

My dad spent his time here. This will mean the entire place will either reek of cigarettes, alcohol or his aftershave, which, I'm sure, will not have a positive impact on my memories.

One night, just one night. If I magically appear the next day on the doorstep of the main quarters, my MIA report will be taken down and everything will be fine.

One night. I need some time. Not snoring roommates. Not creepy nightmares with creatures crawling towards me. And definitely not deadly gazes now being shot at me by Sina and not Jason anymore.

This is so much worse than I thought.

When I thought I was able to sleep, I didn't think it would mean I'm backed away against the concrete wall next to the mattress I refused to sleep on, staring into the blank darkness.

Why do I hear voices? Why do the shadows seem to morph into the creatures again?

When I blink, they have vanished and the stiff shadows painted through the metal bars protecting the small window, cast by the moon, remain. I want to turn on my flashlight, but besides the clicking noise of the button, it remains unlit. The batteries are dead.

Right now? Come on...

Smacking and shaking it multiple times doesn't work. My fingers anxiously dig into the fabric of my combat pants when I tear my eyes open.

Am I hyperventilating?

Something is in my pocket, poking my thigh. Uncomfortable, I pull it out, revealing a glow stick.

Oh yes, these were a thing.

Handed out by the storage unit, no one taught us how they work. All I know is that I have to crack it.

My shaking fingers try to break and crack it, to activate it. But with my sweaty palms, I can't seem to get a grip. Without second thoughts, I bend it over my knee.

Come on, come on...

The plastic groans and creaks under my force, and the liquid inside of the glow stick slowly lights up. Its shine appears weaker than I expected it to. Frustrated, I shake it and bend it again. The shine gradually grows stronger, now illuminating a radius of about five meters. With one last bit of force, in which I expect to get the last bit of energy out, the plastic tube suddenly bursts.

The glowing liquid slowly runs out of the slash I caused in the case.

Just in time, I can extend my hands and watch it drip on the ground rather than having whatever substance it is touching my skin.

Although I have to admit the glowing orange looks fascinating, my last and only source of light has now slipped from my hands too.

With a displeased grunt, I toss the broken plastic tube into a corner of the bunker, hearing it hit something, probably some furniture.

My eyes stay focused on the puddle of glow stick liquid.

Don't fall asleep, Aidan. You don't know what's with you in the bunker.

A creaking noise sounds from beneath me. Realization dawns on me, this bunker has an underground bunker too.

And no one has been in here for well over a week.