She had been staring at the control screen in the Commander's office for hours. Three words blinked back at her no matter what code or simulation she tried. No longer viable.
Josephine knew that the bunker system was not a perfect solution- nor could it be a permanent one. But it should have lasted longer than five years... She braced herself against her desk, elbows pushing harshly into the cold aluminum, hands raking through her hair as fear and panic began to overtake her consciousness. Life support was failing, oxygen levels dropped every day. Water was depleting. The only thing left was food supply, but that too would only diminish.
Trying to breathe, she struggled to inhale deeply; Josephine had been living in the concrete prison of the bunker for five years now, after the world ended. She remembered the day the Earth died; but she couldn't remember what the sun felt like on her skin, just the bitter taste of the Vitamin D pills she took. She remembered the soft waves of the ocean lapping at the sandy shores, of the squawking seagulls and the beach's litter scattered across the sands. With a weak groan, Josephine rose from her seat, twisting in hopes of relaxing her tight back. Coffee mug in hand, Josephine hurried to pour herself a watered down cup.
"If we run out of coffee, I may die." She muttered under her breath, steam rolling off the mug. As the cup touched her lips, the PA system kicked in.
"All level A personnel report to the commander's office. Immediately." Shit. Shit. Shit. She forgot to close her screen before leaving her desk. Rushing back to her desk, Josephine saw Commander Jarrod hunched in front of her computer, Advisers Jones and Chan standing shoulder to shoulder behind him, their necks craning to see the screen. Each trying to lean further in for a better view.
"Jo, what is this?" Jarrod's steel eyes stared desperately at her. Alexander Jarrod had once been a prominent Chief of Police of the Boston Police Department. He never wanted to become Commander but when elected, he did his best to fill the shoes necessary to keep everyone alive.
Jo looked into her mug, unable to make eye contact with her colleagues and friends. "The bunker is failing, and we just barely have a year's worth of oxygen to sustain us now that the hydro-mill is out of commission. If we don't find a way to fix this, we all..." The words become lodged in her throat, making her gasp for air.
"We all die." Orion Musgrove cleared his throat. He was fresh faced and dressed in grey bunker standards which hung loosely from his thin shoulders. The deficiency in rations began to take its toll and the haunted look of malnutrition ghosted his face. He closed the distance between them, standing close enough to lightly grasp her forearm.
The silence was deafening. Josephine and many of the other scientists, engineers and doctors knew this was a possibility and did not take situations like this lightly. Humanity was resting on their shoulders.
"Orion, have you made contact with the other bunkers?" Jarrod finally spoke after what seemed like hours.
Orion shook his head.
"When was the last time we heard from D.C. or New York?"
"Sir, it has been three weeks since we last communicated with New York, and nearing two and a half months since D.C. last checked in" Orion whispered hoarsely, the words scraping against his throat. If they hadn't heard from the other bunkers, that meant they were facing the same issues. Or they were all dead. According to the Bunker system treaty, all commanding officers must communicate daily to ensure the health and safety of other systems; if communication is not returned, it is to be assumed the safety of that population had been compromised and death was imminent. Lately, many other bunkers have been failing to check in.
Still, it was hard to believe that all the bunkers were in failing states. In a twisted way, Josephine thought it was God's punishment for destroying the world. She had been hoping to die on the surface, and smell the ocean one last time-but found herself locked down there.
Jarrod spoke again without meeting anyone's eyes. "Then we must assume they are dead. Poor souls. I need you all to leave me for now. We will meet again at 1600 hours."
Jo turned on her heels, the automatic door groaning open as she slipped through with her head down. A figure appeared in her field of vision before side stepping her, just barely avoiding a collision. But still the person blocked her path.
"Watch out Bunker Brains." spoke a tall, slender man. His white lab coat was the only thing Josephine saw but, she didn't need to look up to recognize him as the chief medical advisor. She had spent many hours with Dr. Atlas Berkley working on disease control systems in the bunker.
"Stay out of my way, Atlas" She huffed. He had to be the most disagreeable medical professional she had ever encountered, and before the bunker she had encountered many. Obnoxious would be one word to describe him but she had many colorful words for him.
"Low blow not looking me in the eyes, Jo." He chuckled. He wouldn't allow her to pass.
Josephine shot him a glare, sending daggers deep into his honey eyes. "No, now is not the time. In a bit of crisis and I don't need your shit today."
"Ouch. Those are hurtful words." He smiled mischievously at her. "Whatever has gotten your panties in a twist so tight?"
Josephine shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you were here, maybe you would know."
"Dr. Berkley, nice of you to finally show face. Clearly that meeting was important to you." Commander Jarrod spoke in hushed angry tones. Atlas immediately removed himself from Josephine's personal space and took long strides towards the Commander.
Josephine lowered her eyes again, avoiding any and all eye contact. She walked determinedly towards her bunk, only to find Orion sitting at her door.
"I want to be left alone, Orion." She groaned, swiping her ID card. She tried to keep her tone at bay, but her emotions were an overwhelming tsunami and she had no control over that.
"I know," he said in a calm, slow manner he usually reserved for the times he talked to her when she was in a sour mood.
"Then what are you doing here?" She asked, unable to quell her annoyance creeping into her voice. "Don't you have your work to continue?"
"I can always finish my work later. Checking up on you is more important." She remembered hearing those same words leave his mouth before. At the time, she'd read his compassionate face as an expression of him asking for forgiveness, but now she wasn't sure. He hadn't asked for her forgiveness. Not once. Not even after what he did all those years ago.
"Our world is already dead. We are dying. We have nothing left after this! And all you can think of is comforting me? What about civilians? By staying here and doing nothing, we are killing them!" Her eyes welled with tears that were testing gravity.
Orion closed his eyes, as if Jo's words had transformed from just sound to something visible. Something horribly morbid. Something hurtful. "I am not killing anyone. I am checking up on one of the few people that could save us. You know who that is right? It is you." he said quietly. He opened his eyes and then gestured to the open space of her bunk. "May I?"
When Josephine didn't reply, Orion reached for her hand and pulled her close. He sat with her in silence on her couch until the clock chimed 1600, her head resting on his chest. Her emotions calmed by the steady beating of his heart. When time came to leave their small space, he gripped her hand tighter and offered a small smile. Even before the bunker, he had been her rock. The end of the world couldn't stop him from being there for her.
Josephine's chest tightened as they stood outside the Commander's office. She forced herself to breathe. She wanted this all to be over quickly.
She closed her eyes and waited.
Josephine remembered the anguished look Orion had given her the day she closed the outer door; locking many to the cruel fate of death. Her tsunami of emotions reared it's ugly head and Jo feared she was about to have a panic attack in front of everyone, her breathing uneven and fast. Blood pulsed in her ears.
So many had died that day, and it was all her fault. But she shouldn't have been behind the door. She should have been outside. She should have died with them, not been their reaper.
Orion hadn't let go her hand, and gave it a soft squeeze. Commander Jarrod stood behind his desk, staring at the darkened bunker map before him. Of the one hundred bunkers that were once lit, only five remained. Theirs, the only Boston one. One in upstate New York; another in Seattle; a third in Little Rock and a final one in Denver.
Commander Jarrod grasped his desk tightly, his fingers trying to find something stable to hold on to. To an observant eye Jo noticed the messiness of his already messy hair, the only indicator of his anxiety. Everything else about him oozed an ungodly amount of calmness.
"Welcome back, gather round."
Josephine's eyes snapped open.She looked straight at the man before her. Why was he so calm?
"We have to find a way to survive," he said with infuriating coolness. "It is vital because we have the lives of so many we have to care for and we have no other option."
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement. Josephine found her surrounded by the Bunker Board, all of the higher ups who ran the bunker. She was not surprised by this, they were present for every major event in the bunker.
"There have been some exciting developments that have been brought to my attention," Commander Jarrod said, sounding like a hollow imitation of a professor discussing his findings. "A select few of you should be very proud. It is all because of our surface research division." Jarrod's eyes landed directly on Orion.
He squirmed as all eyes fell on him.
"Before us are some of the best doctors, scientists, engineers and computer scientists left. You have a chance of making things right, to save the human race."
There was a hush across the room as men and women alike shifted their weight from foot to foot.
Atlas cleared his throat, "What is it?" Jo had never heard fear in his voice until now, and that scared her to her bones.
"Five of you will be leaving tomorrow at dawn. You lucky few are getting a chance to make history," the corners of his mouth gave a small smile, "you will be going to the surface. And you will find a way for us to survive."
On the table before them were five folders. No one dared move. Josephine shuddered at the idea, there was no way in five years that the surface would be habitable again.
"I am trusting these five people with a mission of a lifetime. And those five include: Dr. Atlas Berkley, Biochemists Orion Musgrove and Sebastian Beck; Geologist Jade Lu-Chan and Bio-Engineer Josephine Cohen. The fate of humanity is in your hands."