William Johnstone - The Doomsday Bunker

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the truck creeping along behind them.

“Some people might want to do that,” Larkin said.

“But not you.”

“If we’re being honest… no, I don’t. You say it’s a hard, brutal life out west, but I can’t believe it’s any more hard and brutal than it was a couple of hundred years ago when the first settlers started across there. Sure, a lot of them died, but a lot survived, too, and made new lives for themselves. Better lives, to their way of thinking.”

“So you want to be a pioneer, like in the old days.”

“Well, you know what they say.” Larkin smiled. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

Crandall laughed. “Yeah… like some guys being as stubborn as mules.”

“You sound like you’ve been talking to my wife,” Larkin said.

The truck had to go so slowly, navigating through the ditches where they were shallow and cutting through what had been fields before the war, that it took quite a while to get back to the project’s entrance. They didn’t encounter any trouble along the way, although Larkin remained alert for it. When they reached the remnants of the asphalt road, they followed it up to the collapsed building that housed the service elevator.

Larkin waved at Adams to indicate that he should park the truck by what was left of a wall. Adams did so and then killed the engine. He and Rodriguez climbed down, bringing the bag of parts with them.

“You’re coming with us,” Larkin said to Crandall. “It’ll still be up to Moultrie to decide whether or not you can stay.”

“Guess I can’t ask for any more than that.”

They went down the ramp into the basement. The elevator stood open. Larkin kind of hated to get in it and descend once more into the earth, but his family was down there, and they were more important to him than anything else.

What kind of life would it be for all of them if they left the Hercules Project and struck out to the west? Would it be fair to Bailey and Chris to take them away from the comforts and advantages they had, sparse though those might be? Could they all survive out there? Plenty of the old pioneers hadn’t, Larkin reminded himself. The West was littered with thousands of unmarked, forgotten graves.

But if nobody tried, nothing would ever get better. And they had to start over sometime . The supplies stored down in the project wouldn’t last forever and couldn’t be replenished fast enough to keep up with the demand. Another year at most and there wouldn’t be any choice in the matter. Maybe it would be better to make the attempt now…

Those thoughts went through Larkin’s brain as the elevator descended slowly. He still hadn’t reached a decision when it stopped and the door slid to the side, opening into the short passage off Corridor Two.

Any consideration of the future vanished abruptly from Larkin’s brain as he stiffened, his hands tightening on the rifle he held. Alarm surged up inside him. He exclaimed, “What the hell?”

Somewhere not too far off, gunfire echoed through the Hercules Project.

Larkin charged out of the elevator with the other men close behind him. Adams dropped the bag of engine parts. They rattled and clanked as the bag hit the floor.

Larkin followed the sounds. They were coming from the direction of the Command Center. No one was in the corridor, and the deserted look of it just increased the worry he felt. Something was badly wrong, and the only thing he could think of was that the Bullpenners, led probably by Chad Holdstock, had rebelled against Moultrie and tried to take over.

Were there enough of them to do that? Larkin knew it was possible, especially if they were able to break into the armory and get their hands on a good supply of guns and ammunition.

From the sound of it, that was what was going on. The racket was that of a full-fledged battle.

“What’s all the shooting about?” Crandall asked a little breathlessly as he ran along with Larkin and the others. “I thought you folks all got along down here!”

“Not even close,” Larkin snapped. Up ahead were double metal doors leading into the long foyer that ran between the end of the two corridors. A silo was at each end, with the entrance to the Command Center in the middle. Larkin turned a little as he ran, hit the right-hand door with his shoulder, and bulled through it.

The gunfire came from his right. He swung in that direction, saw men falling back from the Command Center entrance, firing rifles and handguns as they retreated toward Corridor One. More men, some of them wearing the red vests of the security force, poured out of the entrance and fired at the ones who were fleeing. Larkin took in all of that in a split second and knew where his loyalties lay.

Then the world was yanked right out from under his feet.

Because his daughter was among those retreating.

Larkin came to a dead stop. Across that distance of fifty yards, his stunned gaze locked with Jill’s. She had a pistol in her hand and was laying down covering fire, fighting a rearguard action as those with her tried to get away. For a split second they looked at each other.

Then a bullet slammed into her and twisted her around. Larkin saw the blood fly. Jill went to one knee, then staggered up and stumbled after the others.

Rage erupted inside Larkin. He didn’t know what was going on here, didn’t know which side was in the right, but he knew one thing.

Those sons of bitches had just hurt his daughter.

He brought the AR-15 up and opened fire.

Even with the red haze of fury clouding his brain, he didn’t send bullets lancing wantonly into the men just outside the Command Center. He fired low instead. Some of the slugs ricocheted up into the crowd, but for the most part they just forced the men in the red vests to throw on the brakes and then scramble back through the opening.

“Cap, what are you doin’?” Wade demanded as he caught at Larkin’s arm. “Those are our guys!”

“So are the ones they were shooting at,” Larkin said as he lowered the rifle slightly. “And one of them was my kid!”

The group that included Jill had vanished through the doors at the other end of the foyer. Larkin had been able to tell that she was moving fairly well, so he hoped she wasn’t hurt too badly. He had to find out, so he told the men with him to find their friends and family and keep their heads down until they found out what was going on.

Then he rammed through the doors again and loped along Corridor Two toward the foyer at the far end, where he could get the elevator down to his apartment. First, he would make sure Susan was all right, then he would try to find Jill and check on her.

The thud of rapid footsteps behind him made him glance over his shoulder. Earl Crandall was there. The man said, “I’m coming with you, hoss. I realize we haven’t known each other long, but you’re the closest thing to a friend I got down here!”

Larkin wasn’t going to waste time arguing with him. Not when the world he had known for almost a year seemed to be falling apart with no warning.

Just like the world before it had done…

A door up ahead on the left side of the corridor opened a few inches. Larkin angled the rifle in that direction but held off on the trigger. He was glad he did when he saw a woman’s terrified face peering out at him. She jerked back and slammed the door.

Crandall said, “I’ve seen a few other folks peeking out at us after we went by. Looks like everybody’s hunkered down, Larkin. Shit must’ve really hit the fan. Was everything all right here when you left?”

“I thought it was,” Larkin said. “I guess I just didn’t know.”