Apocalypse (The Wasteland Chronicles, #1) (16 page)

Makara looked up. “Cornelius Ashton? That
name sounds familiar for some reason.”

“Because he lived and researched at Bunker
One. He is the author of a set of research papers called the Black
Files.”

My ears perked at that. “The Black Files…I’ve
heard my dad talk about them. He’d wanted to get his hands on those
for years.”

Samuel nodded. “The Black Files contain a
wealth of information about the xenovirus that was lost when Bunker
One fell. No one thought to save the data and transport it back
west.” Samuel sighed. “To think of all that information…there may
even be something about a cure, or how to stop Blights from
growing.”

“How do you know if such information might be
in the Files?” Makara asked. “Sounds like wishful thinking to
me.”

“I don’t know,” Samuel said. “Dr. Luken and
Dr. Keener both certainly seemed to think they held something. The
way Dr. Luken describes it in his notes…” Samuel shook his head.
“Though much of our knowledge of the xenovirus comes from the Black
Files, no one I know has ever actually
read
them. Think
about it, Makara: the xenovirus was in a higher state of evolution
while we were living in Bunker One in Colorado than it is here now
in California. With their personnel and resources, Bunker One would
have had an amazing amount of research.”

Makara and I looked at each other. I had no
idea what any of this meant, and why it meant we had to sneak past
Kari, climb up a long elevator shaft in the darkness, and
commandeer a Recon.

“Samuel,” Makara said. “What are you
saying?”

“Think about it,” Samuel said. “We may
finally know the origins of the xenovirus. Where it came from. How
to stop it. Answers we cannot find here.”

“Oh no,” Makara said. “Samuel…”

“Don’t tell me…” I said.

Samuel looked at Makara, then me.

“We have to go back,” Samuel said. “We have
to find Bunker One.”

No one said anything for a long while. What
Samuel had just said was unthinkable.
Find
Bunker One? It
sounded like suicide, crossing a thousand miles of desert. And once
we got there, the monsters might still be lurking in the darkness
of the United States’ main Bunker, even over a decade later.

It was Makara who spoke first.

“What do you mean, ‘go back’? Even with a
Recon, that’s a lot of open terrain to cover. And winter is coming
on. How do we even find…”

“I’m not pretending to know all the answers,”
Samuel said. “I really do believe that the xenovirus could take
over the world. The Blights have grown for all our lives with no
sign of abatement. I fear that it could engulf the entire planet if
no one does anything.”

“So,” I said, “we’re the heroes, now?”

“I can’t do this alone, Alex,” Samuel said.
“If not us, who will?”

I paused. I just wanted to be in a town with
plenty of food and safety. I was tired of this running around. But
this xenovirus had already ended two of the final four Bunkers in
the last week. We were down to two now, and I didn’t even know
where those were.

How long before entire towns were leveled?
And who in the world, besides us, knew about the true threat the
xenovirus posed? Both research facilities were gone. Maybe they had
been the only two left in the world.

“This could be nothing,” Makara said. “Do you
really want to risk our lives traveling one thousand miles across
the desert and mountains with winter coming on, especially when
there is no guarantee that the Black Files will contain useful
information? And, need I remind you, at the time of year when
Raiders are returning to Bluff?”

“Yes. We have to take that chance, because no
one else will.”

Makara folded her arms and scowled. She
didn’t like this, and I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t sure I liked it,
either. But I saw Samuel’s point. If we could find a cure for this
thing, wouldn’t it be worth all that trouble?

Makara cast me a worried look. I wondered
what she was thinking.

“Return with us to Oasis, Samuel,” Makara
said. “We can wait out the worst of the winter behind walls. When
spring comes, we can go.”

Samuel frowned. He did not like that
idea.

“That takes too much time,” he said.
“Besides, Ohlan is a weasel and I do not trust him.”

“No argument there,” I said.

“So what do we do?” Makara asked.

“If neither of you can go,” Samuel said,
“then the both of you should return to Oasis. I will head to
Cheyenne alone.”

Makara shook her head. “No.”

A thousand questions crossed my mind. Was I
going to Colorado? How would we find it? Where would we find food?
How would we survive the winter? How would we even escape Bunker
114?

“First, let’s talk about getting out of
here,” I said. “The rest is pointless if we end up dying in this
place.”

“I agree,” Samuel said. “Sometimes, I think
too far ahead.”

Makara leaned forward. “So how do we get to
the motor pool?”

“We have to leave this section of the
Bunker,” Samuel said. “Travel the corridors, until we reach the
elevators. They’re located in the power plant. Large reactors take
up the entire floor, and there’s a bridge we can take over them.
Obviously, the elevators won’t work, but we can climb the shaft
until we reach the Nest, near the peak of Cold Mountain. The Nest
was actually the main entrance to Bunker 114 when the first
refugees came in, but the area has been closed off now for a long
time. However, the motor pool is there. There is access to a
mountain road that, with luck, will not be buried by rock, sand,
and snow. Even so, a Recon should handle it.”

“How do we know the Recons still work?”
Makara asked.

“They’re too valuable an asset for 114 to
have let them fall into disrepair. They will be running fine.”

“I hope so,” Makara said.

“The only part that worries me is getting
past Kari,” Samuel said.

I gave a short laugh. “At least you’re only
worried. It kind of takes my ‘absolutely terrified’ down a
notch.”

“Seriously,” Makara said. “How do we get past
a monster that leveled an entire Bunker?”

“The best idea is not to fight,” Samuel said.
“Infected creatures, whatever they are, only move when given a
reason. Loud noises will only attract more of them.”

“And just
how
do we kill something
that big without guns?” Makara asked.

“If it comes down to it, we’ll shoot,” Samuel
said. “They fall just like we do. They might have a great deal more
pain tolerance, but a sure way is to go for the head.”

“So if we have to fight this thing, aim for
the head?” I asked.

Samuel nodded. “If we do this right, we
shouldn’t have to even fight. All the same, it pays to be
prepared.

“What else do I need to know?” I asked.

“Nothing. Just follow my lead. Thankfully,
we’re in the dorms, so there will be plenty of supplies –
everything we will need in the future. Warm clothing, food, and
spare ammunition are a must. Colorado is a long way, and I don’t
mean to die on the journey.”

“Good,” Makara said. “Let’s suit up.”

Samuel returned us our old packs. I’d almost
forgotten about them. All that ammunition, and of course the batts,
would be useful later.

We went through the rooms, Makara listing all
the things we would need on the road: cold weather gear, food,
extra weapons. In the dorms there were plenty of clothes. I found a
heavy desert camo jacket, a beanie, gloves, and thermal underwear.
If it was already this cold, it was hard to imagine what winter
would be like in a couple months.

Whatever room was left over we filled with
food and ammunition. I carried the food, Makara the ammunition.
Samuel had miscellaneous supplies: a handheld radio, a lighter, a
small stove, among other things we would need topside. He easily
carried the most of all of us, but he was also the strongest.

I found myself a long, serrated combat knife.
It attached right onto my belt, opposite my Beretta. I also grabbed
a few extra boxes of 9mm rounds.

All packed, we met in front of the vault door
out of the dormitories. Everything felt heavy on my shoulders.

“Alright,” Samuel said. “I’m opening the
door.”

A chill passed over me. When Makara got out
her knife, I took mine out also. I tried my best to suppress my
nervousness, but it was a losing battle.

“Just follow my lead,” Makara said.

I said nothing as Samuel turned the wheel
that would unlock the door. Makara’s face was calm, ready. I
wondered how she could be so cool and collected.

The door creaked open, echoing in the outside
corridor. Unlike where we stood, where it was light and ordered,
the outside was dark and chaotic. Loose papers, broken electronics,
and snapped lines all littered the corridor. Blood stained the
walls and streaked the floors. A rotten musk hung in the air. Ahead
of us, the corridor angled ninety degrees to the right. A painted,
yellow arrow pointed, reading “Exit.”

“Follow me,” Samuel said. “And stay
quiet.”

Samuel walked out, and we followed him.

We rounded the corner, and Makara’s
flashlight clicked on. It looked like we were at the scene of a
grisly murder. There was blood everywhere – the walls, the floor,
the doors. It was as if the creature had consciously painted
everything red to mark its territory. In the corners grew tufts of
pink fungus.

It was quiet, and cold. There was a deadening
of sound, and our footsteps did not echo but stopped at the
walls.

We walked for several minutes until we came
to an intersection. A rush of cold wind blew through the deserted
corridor. From where it came, I could not tell. But it was not
natural.

Samuel held his hand up, warning us to hang
back. We did so, and he crept up to the corridors’ crossing. He
stood in the middle of it for a moment before something massive
rushed past in a blur. It snatched Samuel as it scuttled past on
multiple legs. Samuel grunted, and was gone from sight.

“Samuel!” Makara yelled.

She ran into the darkness. I was right behind
her. We turned in the direction Samuel had been taken.

But the hallway was empty.

I pointed to the floor. A trail of a clear
liquid led to an open doorway on our right. It looked like he had
been dragged in.

Makara ran, and I followed her. I held my gun
in front of me.

We had entered a common area. A pool table
sat in front of us, and a large television screen, shattered, sat
in the corner. Makara shot the flashlight beam around the room.

The wind blew again, chilling me to the bone.
I spun around, but there was nothing but darkness.

“This way,” Makara said.

I followed Makara across a room where broken
glass crunched under our boots. The walls were colored pink with
fungus. In a far, dark corner of the room, I saw the outlines of a
couch. And on the couch, a body.

Makara and I ran up to it. It was Samuel, and
his entire body was wrapped in a thin, white coating
of…
something
.

“Samuel!” Makara hissed.

“What happened?” I asked. “Where is that
thing?”

Samuel stared past us, at the ceiling.
Darkness swept over the floor beneath us. A cold wind tickled the
back of my neck from above.

I looked up to see an enormous spider.

Makara screamed.

As I aimed my Beretta, the thing opened its
mouth, revealing a long stinger that was curved and bladelike. From
the end, liquid dripped – probably poison. It screeched as it
swiped it at me. I dodged just in time.

At the same time, a hairy, muscular leg
clobbered me. The force was so great that I fell and rolled to the
other side of the room, where I hit the wall.

I struggled to get up. The arachnid was huge,
standing on eight legs, each one the height of a person. It was
covered with sticky, pink flesh. A pool of slime collected beneath
its body, dripping from its mouth, its fangs, its many white eyes.
Two large, serrated pincers opened and closed, longing for a taste
of either of us. And the blade set in its mouth was cruel and
pointed, flexing back and forth.

With me out of the way, the creature knocked
Makara to the ground. It moved over her, its fangs opening, sharp
blade arching back.

I got up, doing my best to hold my gun
steady. I started shooting.

Bam
.
Bam
.
Bam
.

The shots reverberated in the room, deafening
me. The creature squealed. I had shot it multiple times on its
side, but the shots hardly made a dent – purple liquid oozed from
the wounds, running down the monster’s legs. The arachnid convulsed
and turned to face me. It scuttled toward me, its pincers chomping
open and closed.

I shot again, hitting it in an eye. It
screamed in pain – on its breath I could smell the rot of other
victims. Still, it crawled closer, mere feet away.

I shot, over and over, right into its face.
When it opened its pincers, the creature revealed the inside its
mouth and rows of long, pointed teeth.

I shot into that maw, and the spider went
rigid. I jumped out of the way and continued to shoot, aiming at
the head. The hideous creature crawled on its belly toward me.
Finally, the magazine was empty. I wouldn’t even have time to
switch it out. The thing was almost upon me.

I got out my knife, stabbing into the thing’s
head, over and over. It shuddered before lying on the ground. It
was dead.

I retrieved my knife. It was coated in purple
slime.

I wiped it on some nearby furniture and ran
to Makara, who was lying on the floor. I knelt beside her, and
shook her by the shoulders.

“Makara! Makara!”

Her eyes opened.

I looked all over her body, but saw no
wound.