William Johnstone - The Doomsday Bunker

She was looking at Crandall, who smiled back at her.

“A friend,” Larkin said, knowing that would have to be enough of an explanation for now. “Come on.”

Bailey had tear streaks down her face when she opened the door of the Sinclair family’s living quarters in Corridor One, and seeing that made fear shoot through Larkin’s heart.

“Grandpa!” the girl cried. “Grandma! Mom’s hurt!”

“What?” Susan said. She rushed into the apartment.

When Larkin started to follow her but then hesitated, Crandall said, “Go on, man, don’t worry. I’ll stand watch out here.”

Larkin jerked his head in a curt nod and said, “Thanks.” He hurried after his wife, leaving the door open behind him.

Jill was on the love seat, stretched out as much as she could in its confines, with Trevor kneeling on the floor beside her. Her shirt was pulled up about a foot, revealing a bloody gash in her side where a bullet had plowed a furrow. Despite the blood, Larkin felt a surge of relief go through him. He had seen plenty of wounds like that during his time in combat. They left the victims stiff and sore, but as long as the bleeding wasn’t too bad and the injury was cleaned properly and kept that way, it wasn’t serious.

Just painful as hell, as was evident by the pallor that covered Jill’s pinched face.

“Oh, honey!” Susan cried.

Trevor glanced up. “Thank God you’re here. I think I’ve got the bleeding stopped, but I’m not sure what to do now—”

“Get out of the way,” Susan said, her voice brisk as her training and experience took over. “This is something I know how to deal with.”

Bailey stood to one side, her arm around her little brother’s shoulders. Chris had been crying, too. Larkin went over to them and said, “Don’t worry. Your mom’s going to be just fine. I know what I’m talking about. Anyway, your grandma’s the best nurse in the world, and she’s gonna take good care of your mom.”

“Dad?” Jill said, her voice showing the strain as much as her face did. “Dad, I have to talk to you.”

“No, honey, it can wait—” Susan began.

“No, it can’t,” Jill broke in. “I’m sorry, Mom, but it can’t.”

Larkin went over and knelt beside the love seat. He leaned closer and said, “I’m here, kid. What do you have to tell me?”

“Moultrie’s gone crazy, Dad. He came on the loudspeakers and announced that because of food shortages, half of the people down here would have to leave.” Jill paused and took a couple of deep breaths. Larkin knew she was fighting off the pain of her wound. “Then he started reading off names. He said they had been chosen by lottery, but most of them were people who have complained about him in the past. He’s getting rid of his enemies. Or at least, the people he considers enemies.”

“This so-called food shortage that nobody ever heard of until today… is it real?”

Jill shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe nobody knows except him. But it wasn’t just Bullpenners he’s kicking out… My name was on the list, and yours was, too.”

Larkin’s jaw clenched. While he’d been up on the surface, fighting to get the things the project needed to keep going, Moultrie had been plotting to get rid of him and his family. Because the power-mad son of a bitch knew he and Jill would never leave without Susan, Trevor, Bailey, and Chris.

“What happened after he made that announcement?”

“Just what you’d expect. Things went nuts. Holdstock led a delegation from the Bullpen up to the Command Center to talk to Moultrie. But some of the security force… opened fire on them.” Jill swallowed hard. “Holdstock and another man were killed. The rest of them fell back. When the members of the security force who weren’t on duty heard about that, we went to see what was going on. Some of the Bullpenners who’d been with Holdstock came with us. But when we got there—”

“They started shooting at you, too,” Larkin broke in. His face was grim as he nodded. “Because Moultrie made sure that only guys who would be loyal to him were on duty in the Command Center. He has to have been planning this for a while. And that’s another reason he sent me up to the surface. If I hadn’t volunteered, he would have maneuvered me into it somehow. He knew I’d never go along with this purge crap.”

“Dad… how is it up there?”

“We got a whole tanker truck full of gas, plus some parts that will probably work as replacements for the generators. The environmental readings are good enough that people can survive without the hazmat suits, and they ought to be better the farther away from the Metroplex you get.” Larkin shrugged. “It wouldn’t be easy, but there’s at least a chance folks could get away from the worst of the damage and find a place to live. To start over.”

Trevor said, “Then for God’s sake, why don’t we do that?”

Susan said, “But we wouldn’t have medical supplies or a school or even the limited amount of technology we have now. And what would we do for food?”

“We’d have to take some things with us,” Larkin said. “Those medical supplies you mentioned, and enough food to keep us going for a while. As for the technology… people used to survive without it. I guess we’d learn how to do that again.”

Looking up at him as her mother finished applying a dressing to the wound, Jill said, “We’d need a leader. That would be you, Dad.”

“I don’t know if I want that sort of responsibility—”

“Whether you want it or not, you know good and well you’re the right man for the job.”

“She’s right, Patrick,” Trevor added.

Susan straightened from what she’d been doing and said, “If you’re really talking about leaving, quite a few people will want to go with you if they think they can live up there. That would solve the problem of not enough food here, wouldn’t it? There’s no need for more violence.”

“If we can get Moultrie to listen to reason.”

Jill said, “I’m not sure we can do that. When he started reading off names and saying they had to go, he sounded sort of, well, unhinged.”

Larkin rubbed his chin and frowned in thought. “And he doesn’t know yet what conditions are really like up there, because nobody has reported back to him from our mission. For all he really knows, he would be sending people out to their deaths.”

“He doesn’t care about that,” Jill said. “I told you he’s gone crazy.”

Larkin thought about the people Moultrie had sent to their deaths on top of the service elevator when the surface hatch was closed. Moultrie had been going around the bend for a while, and Larkin knew now he should have spoken up sooner.

But it wasn’t too late to prevent a bloodbath down here. He had to do what he could to accomplish that.

“I’ll go talk to him,” he said as he stood up.

“To Moultrie?” Susan asked.

“Not without me,” Jill said as she started struggling to get to her feet. “I’m coming, too.”

Susan put a hand on her shoulder and said, “No, you’re not. After losing that much blood, you need to rest—”

“But Mom—”

“Listen to your mother,” Larkin said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”

“I’m not six years old!”

“But you are hurt,” Trevor said as he moved in to perch on the arm of the love seat, “and your parents are right. You stay here with your mother.” He glanced at Larkin. “I’ll go with you, Patrick.”

Larkin shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but you need to stay here and keep an eye on things. I’ll feel a lot better about it if you do.”

“I don’t mind helping—”