The Fall of Utopia

Part 1 – The Beautiful Ones

I guess I always knew there was something off about the small community I grew up in. It’s all about context I suppose. When you’re a kid you just accept what you’re told, and the world around you seems normal, if only because you don’t know any different.
I was struck by tragedy at a young age, losing both my parents to a senseless act of violence. Naturally, this trauma defined my later life. But, in the years which followed the loss of mum and dad, I only grew closer to the community around me.
They’re the ones who were there for me after all. My neighbours were my family. They raised me, looked after me, and helped me through my grief. And then there was Calhoun – the high priest and leader of our community. He became a father to me after my own dad died. I hung on Calhoun’s every word – respected him, trusted him…loved him.
It all seems so foolish now. Of course I was raised in a cult. That’s obvious to see in retrospect. But this isn’t the half of it. Because, once I started down the rabbit hole, my old life was gone forever.
Let me tell you about Bunker One – the place where I was born and raised. We lived our entire existence underground, never seeing the sun or feeling the wind against our skin.
Calhoun was the father of our community and the oldest amongst our number. He was the only one who remembered the old times, before our people were forced from the surface and took sanctuary below ground. Calhoun spoke of an apocalyptic war which killed billions and poisoned the Earth, leaving the surface uninhabitable for decades to come.
Calhoun used this mythology to build his religion. He promised that our piety and loyalty would be rewarded. We – the people of Bunker One – were God’s chosen ones. When the time was right, either we or our descendants would return to the surface and repopulate the Earth. This was our destiny, or so Calhoun had us believe.
When I finally discovered the truth, I hated Calhoun for the lies he told and for what he did to me. But now I realise he faced a difficult choice. And looking back, I have some sympathy for the old man. I understand his motives, even if I can’t justify his actions.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I was a grown man by the time my story begins. By most accounts, I had a good life in Bunker One. The underground facility was well provisioned and stocked. We had modern amenities, power, and enough food and water to last for decades to come. The community was tight knit, and everyone had their assigned job or role.
Calhoun was loved, respected, and – at least to an extent – feared in his position as leader. There was little dissent to his rule, and few questioned the vision of salvation he offered. And my own future was bright, at least as far as it could be inside an isolated community completely cut off from the outside world.
I was engaged to be married to Sonya. An arranged marriage of course – the match being chosen by Calhoun himself. Sonya was a good woman and I’ll admit to being very fond of her, even if my heart was never truly committed to the union.
It was expected for me to marry, raise children, and take on a role as a community leader. Sonya believed I was being groomed by Calhoun to take over when he was gone. The high priest was an old man and couldn’t carry on forever.
My future was set up in front of me, but I wasn’t content. I ate powdered or canned food, breathed recycled air, worked under artificial strip lights, listened to Calhoun’s repetitive sermons, and looked at murals of blue skies, green fields, and tall trees painted on the bunker’s concrete walls.
This had been the norm for my entire life, and yet I now felt there was something very wrong with the small, enclosed world I inhabited.
I explained it to Sonya whilst we were eating our rice in the dining hall. I sat across from her, the two of us sharing our own table in a room filled with our neighbours, all of us dressed in identical light-blue tracksuits.
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd?” I asked, catching my fiancé’s eye as I spoke, “We live underground but have everything we need to live comfortably – food, clean water, medicine, electricity, refrigeration, plumbing, spare parts for whatever breaks down, and even weapons to defend ourselves with. It just doesn’t add up.”
Sonya wasn’t interested in debating me however. She merely rolled her blue eyes and flicked back her blonde hair before answering abruptly.
“I don’t know Eddie. Why are you always asking questions?”
I shrugged my shoulders whilst playing with my food, somewhat annoyed by her lack of support or interest.
“I’m just curious, that’s all.” I replied.
“Well then, you should ask the high priest.” she said confidently, “He has all the answers.”
I did ask Calhoun, and his answer made sense. He explained that our predecessors had known war was coming and built the bunker accordingly, kitting out the underground facility with all the supplies and amenities the survivors would ever need, and stocking the stores with enough supplies to last for generations.
Bunker One was designed to facilitate the long-term survival of its inhabitants. I’ll never forget the calm and confident manner in which Calhoun explained such things as he took on his paternal role – brushing back his white hair with his hand and smiling amicably through his yellow teeth.
His words seemed sincere, but I’d known the old man for too long and had learnt his tricks. I saw something in his face at the end of that conversation…a twinkle in his eye which told me he was lying.
It was around that time when the nightmares began. Again, night terrors were nothing new for me. I’d suffered from them since childhood as a direct result of witnessing my parents die. But these dreams were different – chilling and surreal. I had the distinct feeling I was being constantly watched – with a dark, faceless figure standing over me…out of reach but observing my every move and reading my every thought.
It was a chilling, terrifying feeling. Still, I might have written this all off as paranoia or perhaps cabin fever. After all, I had no real evidence and no way of proving that Calhoun’s story wasn’t true. That was until the rats arrived.
I vividly recall the first rodent I saw whilst carrying out a stock take in the stores. I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw the big brown rat sitting on the shelf, bold as anything as he stared right at me. They started out in the air ducts and vents, made their way into the food stores, and eventually infiltrated the communal areas, dining hall, and even our personal bunks.
This was the greatest crisis our community had faced since the invasion during my childhood. Calhoun took the infiltration very seriously. He warned the community members not to approach the troublesome rodents, claiming they were dangerous and carried diseases.
The high priest organised a small team of hunters from his loyalist henchmen. They set about exterminating the rats with a murderous zeal. I didn’t share Calhoun’s enthusiasm for the killing spree however.
One of the rodents began following me around – a brown male rat who almost seemed tame. I first saw him in the stores, then in the offices where I was working, and finally in my bunk room. I took to feeding the rat scraps and crumbs, although I never saw him eat. Still, I didn’t make any effort to harm the rodent, nor did I report his presence to the hunters.
In fact, I took a liking to the small creature and looked forward to seeing him scurry out from the air vents. I even gave him a name – Roland…Roland the rat. But the wider implication of the rodent infestation wasn’t lost on me.
I spoke to Sonya about my theory, not in the crowded dining hall but while we were courting in private inside her bunk – a part of the pre-marital ritual. I’ll confess it wasn’t my best pillow talk and certainly killed the passion of the moment. But I needed to talk to someone, and I thought I could trust my fiancé.
“Calhoun isn’t telling us the truth. You know that don’t you?”
Sonya shook her head in frustration, pulling the sheet up to cover her naked body. I could already tell she didn’t want to have this conversation, but I persevered nonetheless – hoping I could get through to her.
“The rats. That’s what I’m talking about. Where did they come from?”
“From the air ducts obviously.” Sonya replied whilst looking down at her toes.
“I mean before that.” I snapped, my frustration seeping through, “These rodents aren’t native to our bunker. That means they must have come from the surface…So, if they can survive topside, then we can too.”
Sonya’s looked at me like I was crazy, sitting up in bed whilst her blue eyes bulged.
“What the hell are you talking about Eddie? You know its not safe out there. We’ll die if we leave this bunker!”
“That’s what Calhoun says,” I shot back, “We’ve trusted him blindly all these years, but the rats prove he’s been lying to us.”
Sonya exploded at this statement, rising from the bed and standing over me, wearing nothing but a white bed sheet, her eyes full of fury as she shouted me down.
“This is bullshit Eddie!” Sonya screamed, “I don’t know what’s got into you, but I won’t stand for this talk! The high priest is our leader. He’s protected me…protected you, all these years. We owe him everything!”
I didn’t have any response to her tirade, instead looking away and silently staring at the bare wall.
“Damn you Eddie!” Sonya cried out, whilst angry tears rolled down her cheeks, “Damn you to hell!”
With that, she stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I knew from this moment that we’d never be man and wife. We were on entirely different wavelengths, and I couldn’t trust Sonya any longer.
I don’t know for sure, but I strongly suspect Sonya told Calhoun all about my lack of faith. The high priest asked me to stay behind after the next morning’s sermon, calmly requesting that I sit and talk with him under the painted mural depicting green fields, blue skies, and an orange sun which adorned the back wall of the temple, directly behind Calhoun’s pulpit.
“Now then Edward,” he began, holding my gaze as he assumed the role of a well-meaning patron, “What’s all this I’m hearing? Honestly, I’m rather concerned about you, young man.”
I was taken aback, almost stuttering out my response.
“I don’t understand sir.”
“Rats!” Calhoun blurted out, louder than I would have expected from him, “You’ve become obsessed with these damn rats, and you’ve been spreading your ridiculous theories. Is this not true?”
Suddenly I felt I was subject to an inquisition.
“I was just wondering where the rats came from,” I answered defensively, “Is it so wrong to ask questions?”
“It is when you’re spreading conspiracies which cause dissent in my community!” was Calhoun’s firm response, “Let me tell you Edward. These rodents do not come from the surface. Rats have lived underground with us since day one. They’ve come to Bunker One because their food supply has been exhausted. Now they’re eating through our stores and chewing up our wiring. This cannot stand Edward. The rodent infestation is an existential threat to our community and must be stomped out.”
I nodded my head. It was hard to argue with the high priest’s logic. Still, there was one thing I didn’t understand.
“You say the rats’ previous food supply ran out. That means they must have come from…”
“Yes.” Calhoun replied solemnly, “The rodents have migrated from Bunker Two.”
The mere mention of that god-forsaken place brought a chill down my spine. My head was suddenly filled with nightmarish images – buried memories from my childhood of the Invasion of ’08, and the brutal murders of my mum and dad.
Calhoun surely must have realised the impact of this revelation, and he softened his tone whilst speaking his next words.
“It’s my fault really. I’ve felt responsible for you since your parents died. And I’ve shielded you from certain…uncomfortable truths. That ends now Edward. You’ve been kept off the guard roster for too long. But now you must do your duty, young man. From tomorrow you’ll be working with Nicholas at the barricade. He’ll show you the ropes.”
My jaw dropped. I was disgusted by Calhoun’s instruction and realised this new duty was surely meant as a punishment. I wanted to speak out…to shout that I wouldn’t do it. But I found myself unable to speak. I simply sat defeated as Calhoun stood and began to walk away, pausing only to pat me on the back and speak in my ear.
“I think this experience will be a real eye opener for you. Good luck Edward.”
Calhoun was right about that at least. My eyes were opened during the days which followed, but not in the way the high priest had anticipated.
Less than 12 hours later and I was at my new post, shivering in the cold and dark tunnel as I took my lead from Nick – a veteran guard and Calhoun loyalist. I looked to my comrade – grey haired and sturdy, dressed in the standard blue tracksuit and with a loaded crossbow slung over his shoulder.
Nick gave the appearance of a grizzled veteran tasked with defending the border from an ever-threatened barbarian attack. He looked at me under the dim light with a mix of contempt and suspicion, and I suspected Nick wasn’t happy about my arrival at his post.
We stood in front of the barricade crudely constructed from sheet metal and stared down the long and narrow corridor, dimly illuminated by failing lights in this unmaintained section of the vast underground complex. The tunnel was the only link between Bunkers One and Two, and thus it had to be kept under constant guard.
I had good reason to fear what lay at the far end of the tunnel, and that fear was due to the Invasion of ’08. That’s when the Bunker Two people had attacked in mass, piling through the narrow tunnel – pillaging and slaughtering as they came.
Our side rallied under Calhoun’s leadership and eventually the attack was beaten back. But many died during the savage battle, including mum and dad.
I remember my mother telling me to hide as the invaders smashed down our door. Father tried to fight them, but there were too many. They cut dad down first and then went for mum. The rest is a blank in my memory. All I can remember is the blood and the bodies that wouldn’t wake. It was hours before rescue finally came.
We knew little about Bunker Two and its inhabitants. They came down here at the same time we did, but something went very wrong in their community. In Bunker One we call ourselves the Beautiful Ones. Rather arrogant I thought, but the name was Calhoun’s idea.
Meanwhile, Bunker Two’s people were the fallen…the barbarians. Whilst our community was well ordered and relatively comfortable, Bunker Two had fallen into violent anarchy. The Invasion of ’08 was their attempt to take what we had. They failed, and there hadn’t been another attempt in the many years since. But the threat remained, and the guard had to be maintained.
“Contacts are pretty rare there days.” Nick explained in a gruff voice, “Occasionally one or two will come down the corridor, but they scare pretty easy. Still, they’re sneaky bastards, and you always need to be on your guard.”
“What about the rats?” I asked.
“Rats?” Nick replied in a puzzled tone.
“Yeah, Calhoun said they came from Bunker Two.”
“Hmm…Well, they didn’t come through here.” Nick said defensively, “Probably through the air ducts. Anyway, don’t worry about it kid. I’m going to get some shut eye. You need to take the first shift.”
I felt a cold shudder whilst glancing down the dark tunnel, focussing on a flickering light in the distance.
“What happens if I see one?”
Nick scoffed as he passed me the crossbow.
“It’s not likely…But, if you do see someone approach, shout a warning. Usually that’s enough to scare them off. If they keep coming, you shoot.”
“Shoot?” I exclaimed in shock.
“We don’t screw around anymore.” Nick replied with a smirk, “Not since ’08. Orders are…shoot to kill. But don’t worry kid, odds are you’ll have a long, boring night. Just don’t fall asleep, okay?”
Hours passed, Nick snoring as he lay on his makeshift bunk behind the barricade whilst I kept watch. Nick was almost right. Most of the shift was quiet. I was a bag of nerves, jumping at every sound and shadow. But nothing happened…until it did.
During the early hours I saw movement in the darkness – a shape moving through the dim light. At first I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but then I saw a figure emerging from the shadows and running towards me.
I raised the crossbow to my shoulder, trying to control my fear as I shouted out – “Don’t come any closer! I’m armed!”
The figure either didn’t hear or didn’t listen. I could see him now under the tunnel’s failing lights. The interloper was a kid, maybe in his teens. He was dressed in a dark red tracksuit – the standard uniform of the Bunker Two people, although I noted how his outfit was ripped and soiled.
The kid himself was skinny – his skin pale and eyes filled with hunger and desperation.
“Don’t you hear me?” I cried out, “Stop now and turn the hell around! I mean it!”
“Please, don’t shoot!” the kid pleaded as he abruptly stopped running and held up his hands defensively, “I just want food, that’s all.”
He was only ten yards away from me now. A single squeeze of the trigger and the bolt would be lodged in the kid’s chest. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill an unarmed young man.
My hands were shaking as I clutched hold of the crossbow. We stared at each other across the gap, and for a moment everything froze. But a second later, I heard a gruff voice from my rear. Nick had awoken from his slumber.
“Shoot him Eddie. He’s crossed the line. You have to finish it!”
The kid’s eyes bulged in terror as he pleaded for mercy.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted food. But I’ll go. I’ll go back.”
“Too late asshole!” Nick replied cruelly, “You should’ve listened to the first warning. Now, we’ve got to make an example out of you. Shoot him Eddie.”
But I wouldn’t.
“No. This isn’t right. He’s not a threat.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Nick replied, the fear now coming into his voice, “The high priest’s orders are clear…”
“Calhoun wouldn’t want this.” I shot back, looking over my shoulder whilst keeping the crossbow trained on the kid, “I’ll take the prisoner to him. Calhoun will show mercy, I know it.”
I was winging it. Didn’t know what I was doing. But I couldn’t let this kid die.
Nick was uncertain now. He wasn’t happy with this change of protocol. Clearly, it scared him.
“Fine.” he finally answered, “You take the prisoner back and I’ll stay here. But on your head be it, Eddie.”
I nodded, motioning for the kid to move and noting the relief in his hungry eyes.
The Bunker Two prisoner didn’t give me any problems on the march back home. I guess he was just grateful to be alive. I asked him questions but got few answers. The kid’s name was Kyle. He was scared, hungry, and running from some unspecified horror in his home bunker.
I expected Calhoun to be angry at my disobedience but never thought he’d take it so far. The high priest’s initial fury at his midnight service being interrupted was followed by a hasty order for his henchmen to gather the entire community in the temple; all one hundred and two of my neighbours – from the youngest infants through to the elderly.
I saw them all pile into the overcrowded place of worship, assembling under the mural of the great outdoors. There was Mr and Mrs Robinson, the nice couple who lived in the bunk next to me, with their infant son Isiah. Beside them stood Owen, the head engineer in charge of the water purifiers, and Yasmine – the kind-hearted head teacher at the community’s small school.
And, amongst the crowd was Sonya. Our eyes met through the chaos and I saw nothing but hostility. I realised then that something significant had changed. These were no longer my friends and neighbours. They were strangers to me now.
Calhoun stood at the pulpit, watching over his faithful. Meanwhile, two of his henchmen – Duncan and Mo – kept a tight hold of Kyle – the terrified prisoner from Bunker Two. As for me, I was reduced to the status of a paralysed observer, unable to act as events played out in front of my eyes.
Once the crowd had fully assembled, Calhoun cleared his throat and spoke out to capture their full attention, his booming voice filling the hall.
“My faithful. My children. It is with great regret that I call you here tonight. But alas, I’ve been left no choice.”
He paused, staring at me with anger and disappointment in his hard eyes, as he pointed me out to the crowd.
“Brother Edward has betrayed us. Foolishly he disobeyed orders and brought…this…into our fold.”
Duncan and Mo dragged Kyle forward. The kid tried to fight but was too weak.
“This invader has come from Bunker Two.” Calhoun announced with a barely concealed rage in his voice, “He is corrupted by the evil which dwells in the fallen bunker. Many of us are old enough to remember their invasion in ’08…when these savages slaughtered our friends and family members without provocation or mercy.”
A wave of angry murmurs arose from the crowd, and more than a few hateful glares were cast in my direction.
“Clearly this intruder is a spy sent by the barbarian leaders of Bunker Two. He cannot be allowed to return and report what he’s seen. We must make an example of him!”
A roar of approval went up from the bloodthirsty mob. Calhoun shushed his people before calling out six names, ordering them up to his pulpit. There, he handed them six daggers.
It was clear what the intention was. And one of the six was Sonya.
I cried out and tried to push forward to stop the savagery, but I was grabbed from behind and held back. The kid squirmed and begged for mercy, but he would find none.
One by one, the executioners stepped forward and stabbed Kyle repeatedly in his chest and stomach. The poor kid screamed in agony, losing strength as his young blood spilled on the temple floor. When it was Sonya’s turn, she paused briefly to look in my direction.
Our eyes locked, and I swore I could see apprehension and fear in her pale face. Sonya didn’t want to do this, but she didn’t have the strength to go against the mob. I could only watch in awestruck horror as my ex-fiancé stabbed the dying Kyle in the guts, finishing the brutal ritual and ending the innocent kid’s life.
And I fell to my knees, crying out as angry tears rolled down my cheeks.
I was surprised that they let me walk away from the murder scene. Frankly, I half expected for the mob to turn on me next. I still wonder whether they would have killed me if Calhoun gave the order. I’d grown up with these people…considered them family. Hell, Sonya was going to be my wife. But I wasn’t one of them anymore, not after that night.
Still, Calhoun didn’t throw me to the mob, and I was allowed to return to my bunk under their hateful glares.
I couldn’t sleep that night. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I saw Kyle’s brutal murder all over again. I lay on my hard mattress and stared up at the ceiling. It was hardly a surprise when I saw my bedroom door slowly open and a large figure creep in, his face hidden by the darkness.
I didn’t move an inch, pretending to sleep to draw the intruder into a false sense of security. I saw the knife in his hand as he slowly advanced, and then his grizzled face was illuminated by the light from the corridor. It was Nick, and he’d come here to kill me.
I waited until the last possible second to move, allowing Nick to plunge his knife harmlessly into my mattress. Next, I hit Nick with all the force I could muster, knocking my would-be assassin down to my bedroom floor. A desperate life and death struggle ensued as we fought each other for supremacy.
I don’t know how, but somehow I got hold of the knife, and I plunged the blade into Nick’s chest – through his ribcage and into his heart. Nick collapsed heavily against the wall – his eyes filled with shock and pain as a crimson tide poured from his wound. He looked up at me in the last, opening his mouth in an attempt to speak. Instead, Nick’s mouth filled with blood and his eyes rolled up into his skull. And then he died.
I still held the bloody knife in my shaking hand, when suddenly the bile rose up my throat and I vomited on the floor. I had killed a man…a member of the community. Yes, it had been self-defence, but that wouldn’t matter. There was no way back for me after this.
I stumbled out of my bunk room and into the corridor, still in a daze and not sure what to do. But I didn’t get far, because Calhoun was out there waiting for me.
The grey-haired, sharp-eyed man stood in the well lit corridor, wearing his standard blue tracksuit and covering me with a loaded crossbow, aimed at my chest.
Calhoun saw the bloody knife in my hand and didn’t even seem surprised.
“Nicholas is dead then.” he said without much emotion.
The words almost stuck in my throat as I replied.
“You sent him to kill me.”
“Yes.” Calhoun replied with a nod, whilst keeping his finger firmly on the trigger, “Nicholas should have taken charge at the barricade. This was his mess to clear up. But alas, he has failed.”
“Now you’ll have to do your own dirty work!” I snarled in defiance.
Surely Calhoun would kill me, but yet he hesitated.
“It didn’t need to get to this.” Calhoun said with a sad frown, “You should’ve kept your head down and followed the rules.”
He shook his head before lowering the crossbow ever so slightly.
“Ah, who am I kidding?” Calhoun continued with a thin smile, “I always knew you were too smart for this charade Edward. It was only a matter of time before you saw through the gaps.”
My jaw dropped as I considered the implications of his words.
“So, you have been lying to us?” I stated with some satisfaction.
Calhoun gnashed his teeth before answering.
“Bunker One may be based on falsehoods, but whatever lies I’ve told are necessary for our continued survival. But that’s irrelevant now. You are no longer a part of this community Edward. I should shoot you down where you stand, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m going to give you a head start. Five minutes before I sound the alarm. Go forth and seek the answers you desire, although I don’t believe you’ll like what you find.”
Calhoun raised his crossbow again, his eyes hardening. He was giving me a chance to live, and I was determined to take it, sprinting down the corridor and out of sight.
With the bulkhead door to the surface sealed shut, there was only one other place I could go – back to the barricade.
Soon I was standing at the barrier of sheet metal and once again staring down the ominous corridor. The lights were flickering and the tunnel appeared even more foreboding. My nostrils even picked up on a foul smell coming from somewhere down there – a stink of creeping death.
Every instinct in my body told me not to go down that god forsaken tunnel. But what choice did I have? I briefly considered returning to Bunker One and trying to persuade the others of Calhoun’s deceit. But I knew this would never work.
Still I hesitated, frozen to the spot as I imagined the horrors before me. But then I saw him – Roland the rat, climbing over the barricade and squeaking at me as he made his way down the corridor. I swear my rodent companion stopped and looked back, motioning for me to follow him.
And I did so, mustering the courage to cross the border and march into the unknown. Meanwhile the sirens of Bunker One blared behind me, and I knew I couldn’t go back.

Part Two – The Crucible

I knew next to nothing about Bunker Two before I entered the subterranean purgatory. It was an alien place in my mind – a hostile territory where monsters dwelt. And, when I reached the end of the connecting tunnel, I didn’t know what to expect.
As it turned out, the differences between the two bunkers were subtle at first but became more apparent the deeper I explored. The underground shelter was a sprawling network of concrete and metal – one of seemingly endless corridors and sub-bunkers. At first inspection it was much the same as my home in Bunker One. Certainly the two facilities were constructed by the same architects.
Bunker Two was significantly larger than One however – built to accommodate hundreds. And yet it was some time before I ran into any people, which suggested there had been a substantial population crash.
Honestly, I appreciated my home the farther I progressed into the second bunker. Our facility was tidy and well maintained. It even had touches of colour in the form of the murals Calhoun had painted on our walls. Not so in Bunker Two, where the walls were grey and drab.
What’s more, everything over here seemed to be in a state of disrepair – from flickering or non-functional lights, leaking pipes, smashed-in doorways, and machinery broken down and left to rust. Frankly, I was amazed the facility was still inhabitable. And yet, the air was breathable and there was no significant light for me to navigate my path.
More concerning were the signs of violence I witnessed – broken barricades in lonely corridors, scorch marks on the walls, and dried blood on the floors. It brought a cold chill to my bones when I imagined the horrors that had once occurred in these halls and corridors.
I saw no human beings during the first few hours of my exploration – but I wasn’t alone. Roland was my companion during the trek. Sometimes the rodent disappeared from view for several hours, scuttling off into the shadows or down the pipes. But he always came back, appearing under my feet and looking up at me with his big brown eyes.
It was the strangest thing, because it often seemed that Roland was guiding me, leading me deeper into the bunker and directing me towards…something. Or perhaps I was just losing my sanity. In any event, it was about six hours before I encountered the first human resident of Bunker Two, and this meeting was not a good one.
I saw the shambling figure emerging from the corridor behind me and almost jumped out of my skin. The person who emerged was an elderly woman, her hair long and white, and her skin wrinkled. Her red tracksuit was ancient, worn, and hanging off her thin and frail body.
She limped forward towards me with her bony hands held out. But it was her blood shot eyes that shocked me – eyes filled with hunger, desperation, and madness. The elderly woman wasn’t much of a physical threat, but there was something about her which made me feel unsettled.
I still had the knife I’d taken off Nick, but the dagger was tucked into my waistband and I was reluctant to use it again, even in self-defence. So, I attempted to resolve the situation with my words.
“Hello Ma’am. Do you need help?”
The woman’s eyes widened and she opened her crusty lips to speak in a hoarse voice.
“Hungry. I’m so hungry.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any food.”
I watched in horror as her face twisted and she snarled her next words – “Meat! You are meat!”
She lurched forward aggressively and I reacted on instinct, pushing her down to the hard floor. The woman fell hard and I heard something crack. Maybe she’d broken something, but the woman’s hostility towards me didn’t diminish. She hissed like a cat whilst glaring up at me with hate in her eyes, grasping out with her claw-like hand.
I’ll confess that I broke in that moment, fleeing down the corridor as the fallen woman screamed after me. I left the crazed and starving lady in my wake but was left wondering what had happened in Bunker Two, and how far its people had fallen. Unfortunately, I soon got my answer.
Another corridor with flickering lights, except there was a foul smell down there – a rancid stink of rotting flesh. I shouldn’t have gone down there. Of course there was something horrific at the end of the corridor. But I needed to know the truth, no matter how terrible it would be.
Advancing cautiously into the darkness whilst holding my nose, I soon found the source of the stench. Because there, in an abandoned bunk room set off the dimly lit corridor, was a human corpse.
The body was badly mutilated, so much so that I couldn’t tell the victim’s gender. The skin and much of the flesh was stripped away, exposing the white bones underneath. The sight and smell were so bad that I retched, but nothing came up because my stomach was already empty.
I hadn’t seen a dead body in many years, not since my parents were murdered. And even then, the victims of the ’08 Invasion were dealt with compassionately and efficiently – burnt in the incinerator, as was the tradition in Bunker One. But leaving a body out to rot seemed barbaric to me.
That wasn’t the worst of it however. I forced myself to observe the bloody corpse in closer detail, hoping to find some evidence on the cause of death. At first, I assumed the victim had been eaten by rats. But no, the flesh hadn’t been torn apart with teeth. It’d been carefully sliced from the bone by a knife.
This victim hadn’t just been murdered – they’d been butchered. I stumbled away from the bloody scene, my whole body shaking as I was overwhelmed by feelings of revulsion and terror. The implication was obvious. The Bunker Two people I’d encountered were starving, so clearly food was in short supply over here. But now I realised how bad it had got. Clearly there were some who’d resorted to cannibalism.
I experienced an existential dread in that moment as I fled from the scene. I’d sought out the truth. Calhoun told me I wouldn’t like what I found, and he was right. How foolish I’d been. Life in Bunker One had been a lie – but it was safe and comfortable back home. Here, it was a living hell – worse than I could have imagined.
Why had I come here? Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut and follow Calhoun’s rules? I regretted my disobedience now, but it was too late to go back.
I guess I was still in a shocked daze as I stumbled farther into the damned bunker, because I didn’t spot the ambush until it was too late.
Two figures darted out in front of me, blocking my path. I took a step back and instinctively made to retreat, but another two had crept up behind me, boxing me in. I reached into my waistline and withdrew my knife, even though I had little to no hope of defending myself against this quartet.
Observing my opponents, I noted that they were all female – young women in red tracksuits. All four were lean and thin, but they shared a fierce and determined look. And all were armed with long steel javelins which were aimed menacingly in my direction.
These were tough women in the mould of Amazonian warriors. I had no doubt they could and would kill me if it came to a fight. Nevertheless, I continued to hold out my knife in a futile act of defiance.
Three of the women held the line with their spears, while the fourth – their leader – marched forward to confront me. My heart almost stopped when I saw her. I almost called out a name before I caught my mistake. Because this female warrior was the spitting image of Sonya, my ex-fiancé. Sure, this red coated woman was leaner, tougher, and more determined, but she had Sonya’s eyes, hair, and facial features.
I was awestruck and speechless as the blonde-haired woman approached, holding out her spear as she came.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded.
I opened my dry lips and somehow found the words to reply.
“Eddie…my name is Eddie.”
The lead woman nodded her head, as if my first name was all the information she needed. But her companions weren’t convinced.
“Cass, don’t listen to him.” shouted a dark-haired woman behind me, “He’s with the Rat Pack…has to be.”
“No.” Cass said firmly, her hard eyes still focussed upon me, “He’s not Rat Pack. Look at his uniform. Light blue. You’re from Bunker One, aren’t you Eddie?”
I nodded my head in confirmation.
“Bunker One?” asked a third woman in confusion, “Why would you leave to come here?”
I looked to Cass but she said nothing, as clearly she expected me to answer.
“I had to leave. Got in trouble with the high priest. There was nowhere else to go.”
“That’s bullshit!” cried the fourth woman, “He’s a damned spy!”
“Maybe he is.” Cass answered thoughtfully, “But we’ll bring him back to camp to find out for sure.”
She nodded to the knife still in my hand.
“I suggest you drop that Eddie, unless you intend to take us all on.”
I inhaled, thinking for a moment before dropping the blade, hearing it clatter on the hard ground. Cass seemed appreciative of my co-operation. She lessened her grip on the spear and grabbed a bottle from her belt, casually tossing it into my waiting hands.
“Take a drink Eddie. I’m sure you can use one.”
I smiled whilst opening the bottle and drinking the cold water contained within. I thought I’d found a friend in Cass but had no idea what awaited me back at the Amazon camp.
The Bunker Two settlement was based in a dining hall similar to the one we had back home. But, while our hall was a place of peace and community, this was a room of desperation and hunger.
I noted several things whilst I was frogmarched through the hall by the four female warriors. There were about fifty or sixty people spread throughout the space, sitting at steel tables whilst staring longingly towards the canteen.
I witnessed how the children were the only ones active, and they were out of control – almost feral as they fought each other with food trays and jumped all over the tables. Their mothers made no effort to control their offspring, merely watching them with dead eyes and indifference.
And it was only mothers. There were hardly any adult males, and the few men I could see were elderly and unresponsive. It seemed that this small community was run and protected by women, and this puzzled me.
My curiosity got the better or me, as I whispered the question to Cass, who strode by my side.
“What happened to all the men?” I asked
Cass simply shrugged her shoulders before responding.
“Dead, mostly. Killed each other in vendettas and duels. Those who survived ran off to join the Rat Pack…and those bastards have been wreaking bloody mayhem for years.”
I took note of her words but made no further comment. This was the second time I’d heard mention of ‘The Rat Pack’. I didn’t know who they were but guessed this group were bad news.
I did notice how I received suspicious and hostile looks from many in the assembled crowd, and this brought back painful memories of my treatment in Bunker One. But I tried to reassure myself that these people were simply curious.
In any event, my attention was soon drawn to the canteen at the back of the hall, where a trio of beleaguered caterers emerged with trays of food. The community members responded with great enthusiasm as they piled forward, but Cass and her warriors were there to keep control.
“You know the drill people.” Cass commanded, “Everyone will be served. Stand in line and wait your turn.”
There were grumbles from the crowd but they eventually complied, forming an untidy line as they queued up for their breakfast.
Cass tapped me on the shoulder, smiling whilst asking – “You hungry?”
I nodded my head and allowed her to lead me to the back of the line, although I noted the harsh glares from those in front of me. The hostility only grew worse as I reached the front of the line and was served food by a hard-faced dinner lady.
I glanced at the tiny portion of beans dished out to me and thought I was being deliberately under served. But, when I looked to the other plates, I saw we’d all received the same meagre offering. There was rationing in Bunker One of course, but our stocks were ample, and we didn’t have to survive on starvation rations like these.
And, as I ate, I realised why the crowd were so hostile.
“Why the hell does he get to eat?” cried a middle-aged woman who pointed accusingly at me.
“Our children are starving! We don’t have enough for another mouth!” shouted another.
Once again, an angry mob was turning against me.
I started to back away, setting down my plate in the process. But thankfully, Cass stepped in to defend me.
“Come on people. Eddie is our guest. I invited him.”
“He’s an outsider from Bunker One.” cried out the dark-haired warrior, “We can’t trust him!”
The suspicious murmurs escalated and I could tell the situation was getting out of control. So, I held my hands up defensively and spoke.
“I’m not staying. Just passing through. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Yes.” Cass added, “He’s leaving, and I’m escorting him out.”
This seemed to quell the mob’s anger as they slowly drifted away and returned to their food.
Meanwhile, Cass took me to one side, picking up her javelin before handing me back my knife.
“I know some people who can maybe help you.” she explained, “But we need to be careful, because we’ll be travelling through their territory.”
I nodded my head, wondering who Cass was referring to and what dangers lay ahead. But I couldn’t stay here, and I had no choice but to trust her.
We walked out from the dining hall and proceeded deeper into the subterranean labyrinth. I was nervous but experienced a moment of joy when I spotted Roland scurrying along the floor ahead of us. It was the first time I’d seen the rodent in some time, and his presence brought me renewed hope.
But I didn’t say anything to Cass, instead waiting for her to start the conversation.
“So, why did you leave?” she asked abruptly, as we negotiated yet another featureless corridor under failing lights.
“Huh?” I said in confusion whilst looking at her.
“Bunker One. Why did you leave? Are they running out of food? Or has the high priest lost control?”
“Err…not exactly.” I replied, before reluctantly recounting the grisly tale of Kyle’s brutal execution following his capture at the barricade.
Cass didn’t seem shocked or angered by my story. Instead, she merely nodded her head in grim resignation, as if such acts of brutal violence were a fact of everyday life.
“You know, Bunker Two wasn’t always like this.” she said thoughtfully as we continued to walk, “When I was a girl, this place was well ordered and peaceful, and we had enough food for everyone.”
“So, what happened?” I asked.
Cass shook her head, trying to control her emotions as she answered.
“People got greedy. Wanted more than their fair share. There was fighting, and half our food stores were looted or destroyed. We’ve been hungry ever since.”
Suddenly something clicked in my head.
“When did this happen?” I enquired.
“Back in ’08.” was her answer.
“You people invaded us that year. Slaughtered us!”
“We were desperate.” Cass replied defensively, “All we wanted was food.”
“My mum and dad were murdered that day!” I shouted angrily.
Cass took a deep breath, acknowledging my pain when she next spoke.
“I’m sorry. Sorry for your loss Eddie. Our people went too far. But you’ve got to understand – we all suffer under the same system. And Calhoun – your leader – he knew we were starving and didn’t lift a finger to help.”
I nodded. This latest revelation was disappointing but not surprising. But there was something which still puzzled me – this talk of a system that kept everyone down.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked nervously.
“I’m bringing you to another community. One that I think can help you…and give you the answers you need.”
I wanted to ask more, but Cass stopped us dead in our tracks, her attention drawn by a suspicious sight or sound.
“Stop. Wait.” she whispered.
I didn’t know what Cass was reacting to, but a second later and an arrow flew past my ear, striking the wall directly behind me. I reacted with stunned shock, realising I’d only been inches from death. But Cass shook me from my paralysis, grabbing my arm and shouting – “Run!”
She took off down the corridor and I followed. But we didn’t make it far. A bulky figure emerged from behind a corner, striking Cass hard with a lead pipe. I stopped abruptly to face the attacker, only to be hit from behind – feeling a sharp pain in my back which forced me down to my knees.
A moment later, and both Cass and I were being roughly dragged across the ground by a gang of men – thugs who cursed and laughed as they inflicted pain. They flung us inside an empty store room, and only then could I comprehend this grim situation.
Cass and I had been ambushed, disarmed, beaten, and taken prisoner, all in a matter of seconds. Three men were blocking the only exit from the room – a trio of fat, sweaty thugs with sadistic smirks on their lips and murder in their eyes. They all wore the standard Bunker Two red tracksuits, but their outfits were customised by grotesque trophies – human teeth and digits hanging from strings around their necks.
I looked to Cass who lay on the floor beside me and saw genuine fear in her blue eyes. I didn’t know who these men were but could hazard a guess – the infamous Rat Pack; hunters and cannibals of Bunker Two.
A moment later and the three thugs stood aside, allowing another two to enter the cell. The first man appeared to be the gang’s leader. He had a deep scar across his cheek and a mean look in his dark eyes – sadistic, but also intelligent. But what I noted was the crude tin crown he wore on his bald head – an unsubtle symbol of his power and position.
The second man trailed behind the Rat King, and somehow his appearance was even more shocking. He was a short and ugly man with wild hair, but the real problem was what he carried on his back – a rucksack with appendages sticking out from the top – two severed human legs.
“Well my liege,” the ferret-faced man snivelled, “We’re going to have a feast tonight!”
“Oh no!” the Rat King replied, his cruel grin widening as he looked down upon us. “This is Cass. Queen of the Amazons. We’ve been after her for a long time. Going to have some fun with this bitch before she dies.”
Then he turned to me.
“And this asshole…He’s from Bunker One. Oh yes, I recognise the uniform. Many of my men have died trying to get past that damn barricade. But now we have leverage…a hostage.”
He snarled an order to his men.
“Get them up on their feet and back to camp. I…”
The Rat King didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because a second later, an arrow penetrated the skull of the man behind him. Suddenly, pandemonium broke out in the corridor as the Rat Pack piled out with weapons in hand.
From our cell I saw a second man fall with a javelin in his chest, and then the survivors broke and fled.
“Let’s go!” shouted one, “Grab the meat and run!”
The Rat King cast us a hateful glare before retreating. A moment later and our saviours arrived in the doorway. Our rescuers were a trio, and what interested me was how they wore uniforms that were a mixture of red and blue.
Two of the three were young warriors – a red-haired woman armed with a crossbow, and a man with olive skin who removed his spear from the chest of a dead cannibal. But their leader was an older man with grey hair – his brown eyes tired but still holding a spark of compassion.
He smiled in recognition whilst holding out his hand to help Cass up to her feet.
“Thanks for saving our asses Joe.” she said.
“Not a problem.” Joe replied, “Glad to help. But you were damn lucky we got here when we did.”
He frowned like a disapproving father. “What are you doing out here Cass?”
“I was bringing him to see you guys.” she answered whilst nodding towards me, “Calhoun kicked him out of the Beautiful Ones. Now he wants answers.”
“Is that so?” Joe said with a raised eyebrow as he looked me up and down, “Well, we best get moving. The Rat King’s been given a bloody nose. But he’ll return, looking for payback. We need to get underground. Then I’ll tell this young man everything I know.”
I got up on my feet, relieved to still be alive and intrigued at what this new faction would reveal to me.

Part 3 – The Tunnels

We quickly escaped from the killing zone, fleeing before the Rat Pack cannibals returned. Joe and his people led the way, while Cass and I followed – both of us grateful to still be in one piece. I expected to see yet more bland corridors and halls. But Joe’s faction didn’t bring us to another section of the hellish Bunker Two. Because they didn’t live in the bunker, they lived under it.
Turning another corner, I was shocked to see a tunnel leading downwards. Panels had been removed from the bunker floor, and a passageway had been dug into the earth. I hesitated for a second as Joe and his warriors descended into the hole, but Cass followed and I went with her.
I don’t know how they built the tunnel network which sprawled underneath the bunker complex, but clearly much work and planning had gone into its construction.
The main tunnels were wide and tall enough for two fully grown adults to walk side by side, the support beams appeared sturdy and secure, and electric lights were mounted to the walls, wired up to a power source which I guessed was located inside the bunker above.
Set beside the main tunnel were rooms and halls, some appearing substantial in size. Guards were posted at intersections, and I saw people – including whole families – living underground. Ironically, this lower level seemed safer and more peaceful when compared to the chaos and savagery in the bunker above.
We eventually arrived at a central hall where Joe invited us to sit, while his people served us water in tin mugs. I looked around at the red and blue clad tunnel people, the dirt walls, and electric lights. Honestly, I felt overwhelmed by this new environment. But then I saw a familiar creature scurrying across the floor, which brought me some comfort.
It was Roland – my rodent companion who’d followed me all the way from Bunker One. I smiled when I saw the rat approach but was shocked by what happened next, as one of Joe’s men rushed forward and brutally smashed Roland’s tiny body with a heavy club.
It was crazy, but I reacted with anger, jumping up and remonstrating with the club-wielding thug.
“Why did you do that?” I screamed with fury, “He was an innocent creature!”
The man scoffed, but it was Joe who answered.
“Look closer Eddie.”
I did so, observing what remained of the crushed rodent. I expected to see blood and guts but instead saw wires and circuit boards. This discovery left me shocked and confused.
“I don’t understand.” I mumbled.
Joe and Cass walked up beside me, and neither appeared surprised.
“It’s not an animal, it’s a machine. A remotely controlled surveillance unit sent by the topside controllers.”
“The controllers…” I repeated in bafflement.
Joe and Cass shared a knowing look before the old man spoke.
“You best sit down Eddie. We’ve a lot to talk about.”
I did as instructed, feeling like I was through the looking glass. Honestly, I was afraid of what I was about to hear but also exhilarated, because the truth was finally in sight.
“You know Calhoun?” Joe asked.
“Of course.” I replied, “I was one of his favourites once upon a time. But then he cast me out.”
“Yes.” Joe said thoughtfully, “Calhoun and I were close friends for many years. We were both part of the first generation. Not many of us left now sadly.”
I raised my eyebrow in surprise. “You lived topside? Before the war?”
“We did. But there was no war.”
My jaw dropped in disbelief. “No war? That doesn’t make sense. Why else would you have gone below ground?”
“We didn’t come down here voluntarily.” Joe said solemnly whilst lowering his head, “They put us here. Trapped us in these bunkers and sealed off the doors. Why? Nobody knows for sure. Our best bet is some kind of experiment.”
He paused, pointing to the shattered remains of the robotic rodent.
“We removed the surveillance cameras years ago, but they’ve become more sophisticated in keeping tabs on us. Our group moved underground in an attempt to escape their watchful eyes, not to mention the violence and chaos in Bunker Two…”
He sighed before continuing. “I suppose you could call our jailers benevolent. They provided ample food, water, and supplies to support a growing population. Much of the suffering inside the bunkers has been of our own doing. Take the Rat Pack as an example.”
My head was spinning and I felt like I could vomit. What Joe was saying sounded insane, and yet it all made sense to me. But there was still one thing I didn’t understand.
“Calhoun…he’s a part of it then? He’s running the experiment?”
Joe shook his head.
“No, Calhoun’s a prisoner just like the rest of us. The Beautiful Ones was his way of trying to take back control. His cult is built on a lie, as you can now see. To be fair to my old friend, he did what he thought necessary to keep order in his bunker. But in the end, the truth will always come out…”
I zoned out after this, unable to focus on Joe’s words. Eventually the old man left me be, as I tried to process my thoughts. But Cass sat by my side, letting some compassion seep through her tough exterior as she put her arm around my shoulder, smiled, and spoke softly in my ear.
“You okay Eddie?”
I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the words to respond. It didn’t matter though. Because a moment later, it all went to hell.
Suddenly a man ran into the underground hall, bleeding from what looked like a stab wound as he shouted frantically.
“It’s the Rat Pack! They’ve broken through!”
Suddenly every man and woman jumped into action, grabbing hold of weapons and preparing to defend their home turf. Cass and I joined their defensive line, and even the elderly Joe took up arms.
We could hear the clash of steel weapons echoing through the tunnels and the screams of men and women struck down. And then the enemy charged inside the hall – the Rat King and a dozen of his men – their spears and blades dripping with the blood of their enemies.
Their leader stood at the head of the mob, his crazed eyes full of bloodlust as he scanned the crowd, searching for targets.
Meanwhile, the tunnellers joined the battle. Bolts and spears flew through the air, men fell screaming, and the survivors fought hand-to-hand. I lost track of my companions during the melee. Cass was fighting a weasel-faced attacker and holding her own. But Joe was soon in trouble.
The Rat King went straight for the tunneller’s elderly leader, and poor Joe didn’t stand a chance. I saw the old man fall with a knife through his heart. The hideous Rat King howled in triumph as Joe fell, the life draining from his tired old eyes.
My heart was filled with fury in that moment as I charged forward, knife in hand. The Rat King was taken off guard. I don’t think he was used to his victims fighting back. He saw me late and turned, slowly…But I hit him hard – burying my blade in his throat.
Shock and pain filled the monster’s eyes as blood sprayed from the open wound in his neck. He stumbled across the floor for a few seconds until his blood loss was overwhelming, and then he collapsed into a heap in the dirt.
The battle continued around me for several more seconds. But then the surviving Rat Pack members saw their leader was dead, and their morale broke.
“The boss is dead meat! Let’s get the hell out!”
The surviving attackers fled, leaving their dead behind. Cass and I stood side by side, looking down at Joe’s lifeless body. And in that moment, I realised that something had to change.

Part 4 – The Reckoning

Weeks passed before we made our move. The deaths of Joe and the Rat King had left a power vacuum in Bunker Two – one which Cass and I were able to take advantage of. It took time to reach out to all the factions and bring them under one flag. A difficult – nearly impossible – task, but we managed it.
Cass’s Amazons, the tunnellers, the ferals, and even the surviving Rat Packers. Former enemies had become allies, and what brought them together was one thing…the truth.
We spent time waiting for the right moment to strike. I wanted to avoid more bloodshed if at all possible. Cass and I watched the barricade for several nights, waiting until both guards were asleep before moving in quietly – overpowering and restraining both men and taking them prisoner.
With this task completed, our ragtag army moved in. Calhoun had become complacent. It had been so long since the last significant attack upon Bunker One, and their defences were weak. His second mistake was letting me live. I’m sure Calhoun thought I’d die over there in Bunker Two. He certainly didn’t expect me to come back with an army behind me.
And I had an advantage that the Bunker Two people didn’t – knowledge. I’d grown up in Bunker One, so I knew the layout, the people, and the routines.
We came in while the Beautiful Ones were asleep, taking them off guard. By the time my former neighbours emerged from their bunks it was already too late. They were outnumbered and outgunned, but I’d given my soldiers strict orders not to kill.
The Bunker One community were in a state of shock and astonished to see me back. Sonya was amongst their number. There was anger in her eyes when she saw me, and I felt sure my ex-fiancé would speak out. But all Sonya’s hatred seemed to melt away once she locked eyes with Cass. Because the two women were sisters, separated at a young age but now reunited.
And they weren’t the only ones. The peoples of Bunkers One and Two had been enemies for years – but this was an artificial divide, and ultimately we were all from the same place. But Calhoun wasn’t willing to accept this.
The high priest marched into the dining hall where we’d assembled the prisoners. His enforcers – Mo and Duncan – stood by his side, and all three were armed with daggers. It seemed Calhoun wasn’t ready to give up.
He looked at me with disappointment in his old eyes, shaking his head as he spoke.
“Edward, what have you done?”
But this judgemental father routine wouldn’t work on me. Not anymore.
I didn’t respond to Calhoun, instead speaking directly to the Bunker One folk.
“This man has been lying to you for years. Yes, he may have had his reasons…But he’s a liar nonetheless. There was no war. The surface isn’t uninhabitable. The truth is…we’re prisoners. Our forefathers were trapped down here decades ago. Anonymous controllers have been watching us ever since. Observing us like we’re rats in a damned maze!
And this divide – Bunkers One versus Two. It’s meaningless. We are brethren – all from the same stock. And we’re all victims of the same cruel system. Only by working together can we break the wheel.”
I’d been practising the speech in my head for weeks, but honestly I didn’t know how it would be received. Would the Beautiful Ones continue to deny reality? Would they remain loyal to Calhoun and his false vision? I looked around the faces of the people I’d grown up with and saw the doubt creeping in. It seemed there’d been cracks for some time, and now it was all crumbling down.
I expected Calhoun to call me the liar and defend what he’d spent his entire life building. The old man opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. He looked exhausted and defeated, and perhaps even relieved that it was all over.
The final blow was when Duncan and Mo – his most loyal enforcers – dropped their weapons and came over to our side.
I had won. But I didn’t hate the fallen high priest. I felt sorry for him.
“You can still join us Calhoun.” I exclaimed in an attempt at reconciliation, “You’re a victim of this system too. Help us find a way out.”
Calhoun laughed bitterly, waving his knife in the air as he spoke.
“You stupid boy!” he exclaimed, “You still don’t get it, do you? There is no way out! You’ve no idea what you’re unleashing!”
“It’s over Calhoun. This is happening, whether you like it or not.”
I honestly didn’t anticipate what Calhoun would do. If I had any inkling, I would have tried to stop him. But he acted too quickly, such was the former high priest’s determination.
“I won’t be a part of this!” he cried out in defiance.
Then, Calhoun raised the knife to his neck, and he sliced his throat from ear-to-ear.
Cass, Sonya and I ran to his side, but it was already too late. Calhoun choked on his own blood and the life went out of his eyes.
I hadn’t wanted anyone to die – but Calhoun had made his own choice. His action wouldn’t stop us.
We all marched as one now – Beautiful Ones, Amazons, Tunnellers, and Rat Pack – all united with a common goal…to break the system and escape from this man-made hell.
There was only one place to go – the bulkhead doors…the steel barrier separating us from the surface. We didn’t know how to break out – not yet. But together we would work it out.
We marched as one down the final corridor, our goal in sight. But the controllers must have anticipated this scenario.
I saw one, then two, then three rats emerging from the vents in the walls and ceiling. Except they weren’t rats. They were the same model as Roland – surveillance drones. But this wasn’t their only purpose.
Within moments there were dozens, and then hundreds. They emerged from every crevice, coming in front and behind…soon surrounding our party.
The mechanical killers surged forward in a deadly wave, opening their maws to reveal rows of razor-sharp, steel teeth.
One of our number fell – bit on the ankles and shins before being overwhelmed by a swarm of ruthless attackers who tore him apart. People screamed and tried to flee in a blind panic, knocking others down and crushing them in a stampede.
Meanwhile the rats kept on coming, tearing into human flesh. Many of our people fought back, smashing and slicing robotic rats with clubs and machetes. But there were so many of them.
Soon it descended into a bloodbath as Calhoun’s grim warnings came to fruition. Cass, Sonya, and I formed a defensive ring, protecting the children as we prepared to fight a desperate last stand.
Our plan was a disaster, as the system had fought back with unprecedented brutality. And yet, as I faced a likely death, I felt surprisingly calm. Because, although we might die today, at least we would die free…no longer prisoners dwelling in the darkness.

Credit: Mark Lynch

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