The Last Bunker, page 16
part #4 of EMP Survivor Series
“Hey, have a little faith,” Kayla said. “Dad has gone up against bad odds before.”
“He should have been back by now,” Benji said. “Something went wrong.”
“Well, regardless of what did or did not go wrong, we have to keep up our end of the deal, right?” Kayla asked.
“Right,” Benji answered and then took a deep breath. “Well, the best way to help people now is by giving them a breathing machine until the vaccine arrives. That’s what Dr. Shanahan says the virus targets first. It destroys the lungs and doesn’t allow enough oxygen to circulate through the blood, which shuts down the rest of the body’s organs.”
Benji pointed at stacks of different machines in the corner. “If I can get those working, it would help save people until we can vaccinate them,” Benji said.
“Where did Shanahan get all of these?” Kayla asked.
“He said he had them stockpiled after the pandemic a few years ago,” Benji answered. “It was part of a federal grant program. He applied for it and got the ventilators last year. He didn’t know what to do with them, so he just put them in storage, and that’s where they’ve been collecting dust until now.”
“So, if you get those machines working, they can help those people out there?” Kayla asked.
“Yes,” Benji answered. “Plus, they’re battery operated, so they don’t require a power source, which makes them perfect to use in the field.”
“How long do you think you need to get them working?” Kayla asked.
“I don’t know,” Benji answered. “I’ve been trying to get this working since I walked in here, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“You said you need to figure out the language, right?” Kayla asked.
“Yeah,” Benji said.
“Maybe you don’t need to figure out the whole language,” Kayla replied.
“What do you mean?” Benji asked.
“When I had to take French in tenth grade, I knew I was never going to retain any of that stuff, and I never wanted to take it in the first place; it was a requirement to graduate,” Kayla said.
“You were not very good at French,” Benji said. “At all.”
“My point is that I knew I would never be a master of the language, but I just needed to know enough to pass the class,” Kayla said. “Maybe you don’t need to understand the entire language of the device, just enough to get something to turn on.”
Benji remained quiet as he considered that. It was evident to Kayla that he hadn’t thought about it, which made sense because when Benji tackled a problem, he always started at the bottom and worked his way up. He had to understand every little detail regardless of what was happening elsewhere.
Benji walked over to the staff without another word and opened the panel. He tinkered with a few things and then took a deep breath.
“Okay, if we narrow our goal to making sure that all we’re trying to do is turn on the device, then it does help to lessen the possible combinations,” Benji said. “An easier lock to pick, so to speak.”
“I thought you said this was all about language?” Kayla asked.
“It is, and I’m mixing my metaphors,” Benji answered, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s see if it works.”
Benji brought the staff to the ventilators, hoping to get them working. He reached for the device to turn it on. Then he shut his eyes, and Kayla did, too.
“Please work,” Benji said.
Because both of their eyes were closed, they couldn’t see anything happening, and Kayla cracked her eyes open. But she saw nothing.
“It didn’t work,” Benji said, defeated.
“It’s okay,” Kayla said. “You can just keep trying.”
“Right,” Benji said, “maybe if I—”
But before Benji could finish, they heard a soft whirring noise from the stack of ventilators. And then, one by one, the lights on the machines blinked on.
“Oh my God,” Kayla said.
Benji couldn’t stop smiling, and he turned to face his sister. “I did it.”
“I knew you could do it,” Kayla said, wrapping him in a hug.
Benji cried again, but it was simply from relief and happiness this time. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but they knew this gave them a fighting chance to keep people alive until their father returned. Hopefully, that happened sooner rather than later.
27
Charlie didn’t waste more time with Damien than he had to, leaving the man’s body on the floor as he hurried back to the stairwell. He wasn’t sure if Damien was bluffing about the steel door that had sealed them inside this underground facility, so he checked it out for himself. He was disappointed to find Damien was telling the truth.
Charlie wouldn’t be able to cut through the thick steel without special equipment, so the only way to get that door to open again was to override the system. To do that, Charlie needed to find the control room.
Charlie sprinted through the facility, knocking down every door he could find, hoping to locate the control room or, at the very least, the vault where they stored the vaccines and diseases.
Charlie stopped again when he returned to the hallway. He was three-quarters of the way down the main hallway from the spiral staircase where he entered; having mapped out what he’d already done in his mind, Charlie believed he had to be getting close.
But fatigue had forced Charlie to stop. And it wasn’t the usual kind of tired, either. Something was wrong. And when he felt the blood drip from his nose onto the white floor, he stumbled back a step, almost losing his balance.
The virus was already working through him, destroying his body’s cells. So, even if Charlie managed to find the control room, open the door, and locate the vaccine and medicines to fight the flu ravaging the island back home, it wouldn’t matter.
Charlie would be dead within the hour. Either by the virus’s hand or from suffocation from the lack of airflow, which he could tell was already worsening. The combination of the virus and the lowering oxygen levels would make it challenging to think, let alone breathe. He was losing steam, and it was only going to get worse.
Charlie stumbled back and leaned against the wall. He had never felt so tired, and his will to keep pushing slowly disappeared. He tried to focus on his family, to remember why he was in the fight, but even their faces were blurred in his memory.
Charlie wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. Considering the low levels of oxygen that were dropping even lower, when he heard the music drifting down the hallway, he thought he might be hallucinating.
But the longer Charlie focused on the music, the more confident he was that it wasn’t a hallucination. He forced himself to follow the noise, still having the presence of mind to keep his weapon up and aimed.
Even though his vision was blurring, Charlie was confident that he could still shoot with at least some form of accuracy. With years of training and field experience, he made the rifle almost an extension of his arm.
The music led him to the end of the hallway and an open door. Charlie turned the corner just as he would if he were assessing a threat, but what he found inside was a man sitting on a cot, eyes closed, listening to music play from a speaker in the corner of the room.
It was classical music, all orchestral, with a focus on string instruments. The music was beginning to swell, and as it did, the man took a deep breath and opened his eyes as it reached the crescendo.
The man didn’t acknowledge Charlie’s presence and couldn’t help but wonder if this was a hallucination. But when the man finally turned to look at Charlie and smiled, he was sure this was all real.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “’Adagio for Strings.’ One of Samuel Barber’s best.”
“Who are you?” Charlie asked, ignoring the man’s statement and the music.
“I’m Marcus,” he answered. “I was a scientist at the facility. I’m the only one left now. I didn’t evacuate with the others. And when that man showed up, he kept only one of us alive. He chose me because I told him what he wanted to know. Because I wanted to live.” He laughed and then closed his eyes again. “Sold my soul for a few more hours of life. But listening to this music, I’m not sure I made the wrong choice.”
Charlie stumbled to the side, leaning against the wall for support. More blood dripped from his nose, and he found it hard to find the concentration and motivation to speak.
“Where… is… the medicine?” Charlie asked, using all of their strength to form the words in a coherent string.
Marcus opened his eyes and looked at Charlie. “Oh my. He got you sick, didn’t he? Well, you’ll suffocate before the virus works its way through you. And then you’ll go to sleep. And then your body will shut down, and then you will die. Already buried beneath the ground in this tomb. Like me.”
Charlie studied Marcus more closely. Even though he was slightly blurry, it was apparent the man didn’t show the same symptoms as he and Damien.
“You’re not sick?” Charlie asked.
“No,” Marcus answered.
“How?” Charlie asked.
“Do you know what this place is?” Marcus asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “This facility specializes in cutting-edge technology to combat viral threats. We were making medicines we didn’t even need yet. And some for diseases we’d already eradicated, just in case.” He looked at Charlie. “Like the Ebola virus coursing through your system.”
Charlie collapsed to the floor, no longer having the strength to stand. “You have a vaccine for what’s killing me?”
“I have a vaccine for the Ebola virus,” he said. “But what’s killing you right now is the lack of oxygen to your brain. Well, killing you slightly more quickly than the virus.” He frowned. “Or maybe not. I’m still rather coherent, aren’t I?”
“I need it,” Charlie answered. “Give it to me.”
“What difference does it make?” Marcus asked. “Even if I give you the vaccine, you will still suffocate with me.”
Charlie was struggling to remain coherent. It was challenging to find the words he wanted to say and then string them together, and even harder to spit them out once he had the right combination.
“One… problem… at… a… time…,” Charlie said, feeling even dizzier.
Marcus smiled, nodding knowingly. “Of course. How silly of me. That’s part of solving a problem, isn’t it? You have to eradicate the immediate threats before pursuing the ones that can hurt you down the road.” He stood and walked over to the speaker playing the music and opened a drawer. When he turned around, he had a vial and a syringe. “I’m not sure how effective this will be on you since you have the virus in your system already. I tested the vaccine on myself a while ago and have been immune, but the delivery system we have in place is state-of-the-art. It uses the help of your body’s DNA to help fortify your system. Given enough time, you should be able to heal fully. And also, no longer be contagious.”
Charlie didn’t fully understand everything the man said but had difficulty staying awake. And he didn’t even feel the needle’s prick before he passed out.
Charlie dreamed of swimming in darkness. He couldn’t even see himself but was aware of his limbs. It was like he was floating in space, in the darkness of a black hole. But he could still breathe, and he felt warm instead of cold.
Eventually, he focused on a sound. It was muted and muffled at first, barely a note, but then it swelled again, and Charlie recognized it as the classical music from earlier. He focused on that noise, and slowly, light broke through the darkness.
The empty void Charlie had been swimming in was gone, and he was back in the room with the man he’d found. Marcus, yes, that was his name.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Marcus said, noticing Charlie stirring on the bed. “I got you up here because I thought it was more comfortable than the floor. You were heavy, though, and I’m afraid I banged your elbow rather hard on the floor.”
Almost on cue, Charlie’s left elbow ached, and he gently rubbed it. He blinked, drowsy from being unconscious. “How long was I out?” He noticed how the words came out easier now, and when he touched his nose, there was only dried blood.
“Half an hour,” Marcus said.
Charlie realized how much time had already vanished and quickly left the bed. But he almost fell back onto the mattress when he stood up too fast.
“You should take it easy,” Michael said. “The vaccine has slowed down the virus’s progression, but it’s going to take time before it can eradicate and help your body heal.”
“I don’t have time for that,” Charlie said, and he saw his gun propped up against the wall near the corner where the music was playing. He reached for it and then slipped his arm through the strap. “Where’s the control room?”
Marcus stared at Charlie, blinking a few times and considering whether he should help. But he finally stood and then shook his head. “I don’t understand the point, but okay,” Marcus said, and he headed toward the door.
Charlie hated how slowly Marcus was moving, but considering the man had just saved his life, Charlie didn’t push him too much harder.
The control room was tucked away behind a fingerprinted and scanned door. He would never have found it alone had Marcus not shown Charlie where to look.
The door opened, granting them access, and Charlie walked past Marcus and entered the room first. It was ample space, enough for at least five or six people to work to keep the facility running from this room alone.
“Where is the override system?” Charlie asked, looking back at Marcus.
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t work in here; I was in the lab.”
Charlie had been in rooms like this before and figured most high-security facilities followed the same logistical layout. “If this place is anything like the Bunker, then….” Charlie followed the control panels to the central interior of the room and then started to remove the metal paneling that covered the control board.
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Marcus asked.
Charlie ignored the question and instead focused Marcus’s efforts on another task. “The man that was here, Damien, took a vial and spread a contagion on the surface. It’s already infected and killed people, and I need the vaccine.”
When Marcus didn’t answer, Charlie glanced back at the man standing there, unmoved by Charlie’s pleas.
“What does it matter?” Marcus asked.
“My family could be infected,” Charlie answered.
“No, I mean, what does it matter if I give you the vaccine?” Marcus replied. “We’re not getting out of here. You see that timer?” He pointed to the clock on the center wall, which was counting down, with less than an hour on it. “That’s the countdown timer until there is no more oxygen in this facility. The system is designed as a protective measure to ensure no dangerous pathogens escape.”
“It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” Charlie asked, returning to his work on opening up the panel.
“No, you don’t understand,” Marcus answered. “There is no override system. There is no code. We are locked in this facility until that timer reaches zero. And then it will be another hour before the door opens to ensure anyone inside is dead.”
“If you never worked in the control room, how do you know that?” Charlie asked.
“We were all briefed on the safety measures of this facility when we started working here,” Marcus answered. “It was to help act as a deterrent in case we went rogue.”
Charlie removed the panel and then stared down into the wires. “Listen, kid, I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve worked for people who designed places like this, and they all have a scary story to make the employees think twice before trying anything dangerous. But they don’t tell you that at least one person always knows how to override the system—one person to be able to get out if they need to. I know you’re not that person here because they wouldn’t trust you with that information. Damien likely killed that person when he showed up. But that person exists.” He returned his focus to the maze of colored wires, searching for what he hoped would be a gray box stuck on the side.
“And you know where to look for this override, even though the man who had the answers is dead?” Marcus asked.
Charlie reached through the wires, fumbling blindly. “I don’t have the answers, but I can make an educated guess on who helped design this facility. I noticed it when I first showed up. It was the same structure as the place I used to work, the reason Damien wanted to kill me, the reason he killed all of your colleagues.” He shook his head. “They always thought they were so clever, hiding things the way they did, but they were too lazy to devise a method to hide it in different spots in their facility. I suppose it’s because they never believed anyone could figure it out. Least of all, someone like you or me.”
Eventually, Charlie felt a box-like structure on the side and ripped it open.
“But that was their arrogance working against them,” Charlie said, and he grabbed hold of the wires inside and yanked them hard.
The moment he pulled the wires out, the system shut down and was cast into darkness. After that, it was still and quiet, and then a moment later, the lights turned back on; the clock was set to zero, and the air started flowing through the vents again.
Charlie removed his hand, looking at Marcus, who stared up at the vents with a sense of wonder in his eyes.
“I don’t believe it,” Marcus said.
But Charlie didn’t have time for what Marcus did or didn’t believe. Instead, he needed the doctor to focus on what Charlie needed him to do. “Marcus,” Charlie said, walking over to him. “I need you to tell me where to find the vaccines and how to store them safely until I arrive at my location.”
Marcus was still looking up at the vents, and Charlie had to shake the man to get him to look him in the eye. “Hey! It would be best if you listened to me. Where are the vaccines, Marcus?”
“I thought I was going to die,” Marcus said, tears in his eyes as he processed what was happening to him. “I was ready. I thought… I don’t know if I deserve to live.”
