Gunner has found the controls for the projector screen. I'm not quite sure what we're watching, but it seems to be an old film of sorts. An adventure, by the looks of the characters and the story.
"This is great," Gunner says, chuckling as he chomps on a meal bar.
"I'm struggling to see the appeal," I reply, mixing us each a cup of powdered fruit drink I found in the kitchen. "So, tell me. Have you thought about sleeping arrangements? This place could fit three small families in each room, and they would be very comfortable."
"You get the first pick on bedrooms... If we do stay here on a permanent basis, I think you should choose where Phoenix and your mother will stay. It doesn't have to be now, but it is something to have in mind."
I nod, sighing as I stare at the screen. The sunlight is beginning to fade as shadows fill the room. There is a lamp in the corner, casting a yellowish glow on the floor. I suppose I am more tired than I realize because I lean my head onto Gunner's shoulder and yawn.
"I'll take the first room," I mutter as another yawn escapes me. "It's a little bigger than I am used to, but it will do... As long as you promise to be close by."
"I'll be in the room across the hall," he says with a soft chuckle.
Gunner says something else, but I don't catch it as I am lulled to sleep.
Warmth. Gentle whistling.
As I open my eyes, these are the contributing sensations to help me recognize the fact I am not with my family. The warmth is coming from a nearby window as the sun shines through. A sweet little bird sitting on the other side of the glass, singing. An actual bird, singing. If the world were at war, this bird would be hiding.I sit and watch the little creature with my knees tucked close to my chest. It's so peaceful and stable; the ground has not rattled or vibrated at all and it is such a welcome sensation.
"Hey."
I look to the bedroom door as Gunner enters with his hands in his pockets. He looks well-rested and pleased to see me.
"Sleep alright?" he asks, sitting on the edge of the large bed.
"The bed is very big," I reply, nodding. "Different than the one I have at the Bunker. But yes, I slept well. What's the goal for today?"
"We're going to walk around and get a look at the sights."
"We also need to find the person who initiated Exit Protocol. Alison won't reveal their identity until we find them."
"Yeah."He moves close, mirroring my ball-like position; he's barefoot. Our arms are touching, and the sun is not reaching above the trees outside.
"We were born in that Bunker," I say, leaning into Gunner's side. "Dreaming of the day we could wake up and look at the sky... The dream seemed so far-fetched once."
"Not anymore," Gunner replies, leaning his head on top of mine. "How do you feel about us finding something to eat?"
"We still have plenty of food still in our backpacks."
"No, I mean something different. There's tons of food in the fridge. Whoever lived here left a lot of stuff... I snooped around while you were sleeping. They definitely left very recently."
"Think they'll be coming back?"
"Trust Sandra's word unless we discover otherwise."
I nod, yawning as my remaining sleep fades.
The area behind the house is larger than the market I frequented for vegetables last week. I'm taking a turn wearing the camera. This may not be the best idea because I keep looking at everything, but then it might be perfect because I am looking at everything.
"I should have thought to grab my guidebooks," I say, staring at a particular three-leaf plant. "But I think that cluster of leaves means it's poisonous."
"I think you may be right," Gunner replies, touching my shoulder to put distance between us and the plant. "C'mon; let's try that path there."
He points to the edge of the woods where a well-trodden dirt path stands out from the green.
"We don't know our surroundings yet," I say, turning around to look at the back of the house. "We should leave markers on the trees."
"I have my pocket knife. I can cut a symbol into every fifth tree."
"Works for me."Gunner brings out his knife, holding it in his hand not holding mine. We've grown more comfortable with our proximity; I think it's because we're no longer under constant observation.
The path goes deep into the woods. From the looks of it, many have traveled through here often. My assumption is that this path leads to a community location and everyone in the neighborhood uses it.
"Hold up," Gunner says, releasing my hand as he steps toward a tree and stabs the tip of the knife into the bark. He carves an R, tracing it a few times before he is satisfied with his art.
"You could just put an X," I say as he takes my hand again.
"An R doesn't point to gold," he counters as we continue on our way. "It's also unique to our little rendezvous."
"Uh-huh, okay... What's that?"
I point up the path at what appears to be a bridge. And based on an instructional video I saw a year ago, the sound I hear is that of a babbling brook.
"Turn the camera back on," Gunner says; I had turned it off half an hour ago because there hasn't been anything new.
I press the button on the side as we sprint toward the bridge. The running water beneath confirms the babbling sound. I hold the railing, completely in awe.
"I bet it's freshwater; drinkable."
"I don't think people would drink from here."We turn around as a gentleman is crossing the bridge from the opposite side. He's dressed casually; his button-down shirt is white with the sleeves rolled up halfway. Loose, but fitted, black cargo pants and thick combat boots.
"Ever seen a creek before?" he asks, chuckling.
"Only in videos and books," I reply, standing on Gunner's other; making sure the camera has a good angle on the stranger's face.
"Making a video diary?"
"Something like that... We go through our footage and delete clips of people who don't want to be featured."
He nods, "I don't mind... How long has it been since you left the Bunker?"
Gunner and I exchange a look; his question is specific.
"How long have you lived above ground?" Gunner asks as I turn the camera back. "Which Bunker?"
"Almost ten years," he replies calmly. "The nearest Bunker, probably the same one you came from."
"Does the name Bennett mean anything to you?" I ask as my heart begins to race.
"As a first or last name? I knew two people; one was a first name, and the second a last name. Why the questions?"
"Exit Protocol."
"Ah... Alison cannot reveal the identity of the one who initiated the Protocol until you find them. I suggest we relocate. There's a lot of information to cover."
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