A. Colucci - The Colony

“It’s so dark.” She put her head inside. “Wait, I see some small lights down there.”

“Good. I’ll be sure to keep them running.”

Kendra paused for just a moment, regaining her nerve. She put her legs inside, then squeezed her body into the tunnel, tight as a sword in a sheath, until only her head could be seen. She lifted herself partway on her knees, but crawling would be difficult.

“This is ridiculous, Jeremy.” She stuck her head out the door. “Move! I’m coming out.”

Instead, Jeremy grabbed the back of her hair and kissed her hard on the lips. As they broke apart, he said, “Find Paul.”

The door slammed, and Kendra was surrounded by blackness.

“Jeremy?” She listened to the outside and heard the dragging of metal. Something heavy hit the door. She struck at the seam, but it wouldn’t budge. He had locked her inside.

“JEREMY!” KENDRA BANGED A few times but knew it was useless. Jeremy was stubborn. Besides, the ants were already inside the bunker and he had only minutes to turn off the power. She would have to crawl through the death chamber alone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kendra lay flat on her stomach and tried to rise on her knees but hit the ceiling. Lifting on her elbows was also difficult. She would have to squirm through the tunnel like a snake down a sewer pipe, arms bent like flippers at her side. After a few tries, it became apparent that the best way to move was by wriggling forwards on her knees and elbows in a sort of caterpillar crawl.

The walls were inches from her face and Kendra felt her heart throbbing out of her chest. The farther she moved from the computer lab, the more panic she felt. Suppose she reached the end of the tunnel and there was no exit? Maneuvering backward would be impossible, and surely a death sentence. She could feel the warning signs of sheer terror spreading over her body—sweat, trembling, heart palpitations—and she stuffed them down deep, replaced with a feeling of rage over her predicament. She could hold off the shakes for now, but it wouldn’t be long until she fell into a full-blown claustrophobic attack. Her eyes yearned for even a morsel of light. Every ten feet or so were tiny blue LED panels that glowed but didn’t illuminate anything else. Kendra had to squint even to notice them, but at least they guided her like a runway.

She could feel the rigidness of the steel, blunt trauma on her bruised knees, and she stopped for a moment to rest. She rolled onto her back, lifted one hand and placed it against the cold ceiling, which felt incredibly dense, like pressing against the whole planet. I’m buried alive in a tomb, she thought. Her worst nightmare had come true.

Kendra flipped over quickly and forced her body to move, taking deep breaths, and tried to remember she was a scholar, a five-time champion rower and a damn good cross-country skier. She did what came naturally: started talking to herself.

“Girl, you spent two days lost in the desert. You dropped ten pounds walking twenty-six miles in blistering ninety-degree heat, and then froze the whole freaking night.… Don’t be such a goddamn baby.” The trek became easier as she focused her thoughts and stared at nothing but each passing LED light. “What about the Congo… who was first to reach the study site… by an entire day, no less… like a damn monkey you took to that jungle… left the others in the mud, is what happened.”

Before long, she had crawled about two hundred feet, and then she stopped, sniffing the air. A fetid odor wafted through the tunnel, both strange and familiar. Then the tunnel opened up wider, with a foot more head room and enough space to stretch out both her arms. Kendra clambered toward the scent and it became more distinct. She stopped short and the stench hit her face like a damp towel. Whatever the thing was, it was right in front of her. Her fingers reached out warily, as though about to touch a corpse. Instead, they brushed thin bars of cold steel and warm cedar shavings.

Rats.

Kendra poked her fingers into the cage and felt fur. Sharp teeth bit her pinky nail. She laughed a cry of relief and patted down the walls, finding what she expected: a seam in the metal. Her fingertips traced the line.

She pounded the door.

The burst of light was blinding, and she squinted at the white walls full of specimen boards, black counters strewn with paper. It was Paul’s lab. Exhaling a burst of joy to be out of the tomb, Kendra squirmed from the hole. She staggered to her feet, getting her bearings, and ran for the closet, where she had seen a stack of Bug Out suits. She threw open the door with a surge of adrenaline and relief, but the feeling lasted only a moment.

Kercha kercha kercha kercha kercha

Kendra jolted. Inside the closet, Siafu Moto covered the shelves and walls. They sprinkled like rain from ceiling vents, crawled over all the equipment and the four boxes of protective suits.

Kendra slammed the closet door shut, as clusters of ants spilled into the room. They crawled overhead across fluorescent bulbs, dropping down in clumps, and scurried over every surface. She leaped onto a desk, sending a laptop crashing to the floor in a shower of papers.

The ants rushed her, stingers raised high in unison as if they were soldiers drawing swords. Heat sliced through her body and Kendra slid off the desk and spun around, slamming into a long table. She dropped to the floor and crawled beneath it on hands and knees, heading to the back of the room toward the tunnel.

The lights went out. Jeremy had cut the power.

Kendra struggled to reach the tunnel before the ants. She felt her way to the wall and tumbled into the cramped space, shutting herself inside.

Her heart was beating like a piston and she had to stop a minute, wrapping her arms around her head. She was going to throw up.

No time for that. Keep going. She slowly started to crawl.

The LED lights brightened.

“Thanks, Jeremy,” she whispered.

Jeremy Rudeau stared at the bunker main control system and switched off the last of the power. Immediately the buzzing stopped, as the electrical field disappeared. He listened to the quiet for a few moments, fairly certain the ants were headed back to the surface, preparing for their nightly raid. It seemed as if his plan had worked.

He left only one circuit running for the computer room and another one for the LED lights in the tunnel. The rest of the bunker would be dark. Jeremy crossed the room and put both hands around the heavy file cabinet. It made a piercing screech as it dragged across the floor. He opened the small door to the tunnel.

He looked inside and yelled, “Kendra!”

There was no answer. Relieved, he set off to meet her at the south end exit.

Jeremy stopped suddenly. The ant sound was low but distinct. He peered up at the ceiling, listening to the ants crawl through the vents; the sound became louder.

Not good. He rushed to the door and peeked out. Ants were everywhere. He gazed around the room, his mind racing, but it was too late to think. Jeremy scrambled to the back of the lab as hordes of ants dropped down from the ceiling like paratroopers, blazing down the walls. They blanketed the door to the tunnel, not that he would even fit inside. The sound of the ants pierced his brain as thousands of insects filled the room. Jeremy vaulted over an enormous mainframe, waist high and four feet across. He hid behind the machine, breathing like mad, his heart hammering.

Calm down, he told himself. Jeremy tried to settle his mind, think clearly. He knew the ants could sense movement. His best chance, his only chance, was to sit on the floor completely still, unmoving like a stone, until they retreated to the surface.