Kyle West - Extinction

“Look,” I said. “Before anything happens, we’ll talk to the Wanderer. Just you and me. Okay? We’ll see if there’s another way to do this.”

Anna watched me, her eyes afraid. I didn’t want to say anything to hurt her, or scare her, but how could I not when my death was a sure thing? Maybe this would be a chance to convince her.

“Whatever happens,” I said, “we’ll face it together. Alright?”

Very reluctantly, she nodded. I didn’t know what else she wanted me to say. Maybe she didn’t know, herself. All I knew was, I couldn’t give up now, after everyone had sacrificed so much.

The ship suddenly lurched and lowered. Still, I remained seated, looking at Anna, who now faced away. She stared at the clinic’s walls as if they had more of an answer than I did.

“Hey,” I said, touching her shoulder.

She turned her head toward me, giving a small smile. I knelt down and kissed her. I thought it was going to be short, but we continued to kiss. I was going away to do something dangerous, and Anna was stuck here. Anything could happen down there, so I didn’t know when I’d see her again…or even if I’d see her again.

Someone entered the room, clearing his throat. I turned to see that it was Michael.

“Alright, kids,” he said. “It’s go time.”

Anna pushed me away, her green eyes deadly serious.

“Don’t die.”

“I won’t.”

I left Anna and the clinic behind.

Not yet, anyway.

Thankfully, we found some white parkas hanging in a cabinet in the cargo bay. I was glad that Augustus hadn’t grabbed those, because we needed them to make it to the entrance of Bunker 84 without freezing to death.

I grabbed an extra AR-15 to replace the one I gave Makara. I strapped it to my back and put a couple of handguns with complimenting ammunition in my pack. If there was anyone resisting Jade inside Bunker 84, they might be in need of weapons.

I just hoped Char, Marcus, and Ruth were alright. Michael was even more anxious to get down there because of his wife and daughter.

At last, we were all gathered in the wardroom. With a final nod, Samuel opened the blast door, letting in a rush of frigid, snow-laden air.

“Check in often,” Ashton said as we exited the ship. “And good luck.”

Michael led the way, pushing through the snow. Julian walked in his wake while Samuel, Makara, and I kept up. I stole a quick glance at Perseus behind. It had landed not too far from the wreckage of Odin, perhaps one hundred yards away. Its outline was almost lost to the swirling flurry.

Makara looked in that direction and sighed. “A lot of memories on that ship.”

It didn’t feel as cold today as it had when we’d landed here about a week ago, but the wind was still bitter.

I kept thinking of Jade. It was hard to imagine that weasel of a man ordering anyone around.

Through the shifting of snow, I saw the surface of the icy lake appear, its surface reflecting the gray sunlight dully. We reached its shoreline, walking in the direction of the Bunker entrance. Across the lake, the shape of the massive mountain was barely discernable against the gray sky.

The lake’s edge led us to the familiar, frozen stream leading into the canyon, at the end of which lay the hidden Bunker entrance. It wouldn’t be long before we reached the icefall.

Michael readied his rifle, and the rest of us followed suit by drawing our weapons.

Makara stepped past Michael, approaching the icefall cautiously. Julian was just a few steps behind. Makara slipped on the ice, and would have fallen if Julian hadn’t caught her arm. After steadying herself, Makara gave him a terse thanks.

Michael, meanwhile, walked toward the icefall. The opening he and Julian had made still remained. Michael picked his way over the ice pile. Julian and Makara followed him, while Samuel and I brought up the rear.

Once we stood safely in front of the Bunker door, Makara peered inside. She dug out a flashlight from her pack and clicked it on. She pointed the light inside, revealing the empty passageway leading into darkness. I retrieved my own flashlight, keeping it off to conserve energy. If the need arose, I could turn it back on.

“Clear,” she said, her breath forming a cloud. “Be ready.”

She walked inside, and we followed, leaving the horrible, dry cold behind. As we entered the obscuring shadow, the snow continued to fall.

Bunker 84 was as quiet as a tomb, and for some reason, it felt like we were walking into one.

Before long, the corridor opened into the park filled with dead plants. The cool air was sharp with the scent of metal and the dry smell of dead vegetation. Makara shined her light on the park, scanning left and right. A lot of dangers could be lurking there. I turned on my own light, helping Makara push back the darkness. Nothing moved.

“Is this close to where you were attacked?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “We were attacked, drugged, and taken down to the bottom.”

“Do you know the way from here?”

I shook my head. “I assume there’s a set of stairs that’ll take us to the hangar.”

Makara nodded, turning left. She made sure to stay about twenty feet from the edge of the deadened plants. It would be easy to be ambushed from there.

“Look,” Samuel said. “Stairwell up ahead.”

We paused before a flight of steps leading down. Fifteen or so steps descended to the first landing, before turning 180 degrees and continuing downward to the next level.

Michael and Julian followed Makara down the metal steps. Michael held his AR at the ready, while Julian kept his handgun in his right hand. Samuel and I, once again, brought up the rear. I glanced backward, scanning with my light to make sure nothing was tailing us. Still clear. I followed everyone downstairs.

We went down a couple of levels before the stairs came to a stop. I had expected this flight to go all the way down, but apparently we had to find another way to reach the hangar. Makara walked at a slow, careful pace. Her flashlight revealed many open doorways in the corridor — doorways from which threats could attack us. Every few moments she paused, listening, causing the rest of us to follow suit. There was nothing but our breaths.

“Keep moving,” Samuel said. His voice, though soft, carried in the confines of the corridor.

We had walked a few more steps when boots pounded on metal. They came from behind.

I whirled around, shining my light into the darkness. There was no one there; they must have ducked into one of the doorways I’d just passed.

“Who’s there?” I called.

From ahead came more stomping of boots. We pressed against each other back-to-back, our guns pointed ahead and behind.

“Lords or Angels?” a male voice called from Makara’s direction.

She stepped forward. “Angels. Who are you?”

The man didn’t answer immediately. I was ready to snap into action, shooting whoever jumped out at me.

“Makara?”

This caused other men in the shadows to murmur. If I had to guess, there were maybe ten of them. We were far outnumbered.

“Yeah,” she said. “Who are you? What happened here?”

“Makara, we thought you were dead,” the man said. “Where were you? What happened?”

The man had a strange accent, like none I’d ever heard spoken before. It tickled at my memory, though; I felt like I’d seen a movie where I heard a similar manner of speaking. The accent, though detectable, was buried under the gruff way of speaking that was common to most Raiders.

I realized that what I was hearing was an English accent. This man must have been born there, but had been living in the U.S. when Ragnarok fell — which meant that he had stayed here.