all god's orphans
Chapter 74

Wes and Brian were quickly trying to come up with a way for the RV to pull the door off its hinges. Wallace leaned nearby, seeming not at all worried about the inbound holocaust. Twelve minutes had already elapsed and every second brought them closer to the moment nuclear missiles started falling out of the skies above the Unites States of America.

“That RV isn’t designed for that. It doesn’t have anywhere near enough low end torque.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Wes sneered. Brian nodded.

“He’s right.” Brian said. “This won’t work.” They began a new search for an even more desperate plan while Kite sat on the ground holding Sarah’s hand.

“It’s going to be all right.” Sarah’s head was on her shoulder and she ran a hand through the girl’s hair to keep her calm. Sarah didn’t believe her about that, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue. Raymond was tearing through the other vehicles looking for a crowbar.

“You aren’t going to be able to pry that door open.” Called Wallace, seemingly little more than annoyed at his fate. Raymond couldn’t take it anymore.

“So what’s your plan, huh?” He shouted. “You’re gonna die out here with us, y’know?”

“I’m not worried about that.” Wallace announced. “You see, I’m immortal.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind!” Raymond jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction. “You can’t handle the stress and you’ve lost your fucking mind.” Raymond was going to lose his own mind if this fucking pilot didn’t shut his goddamn mouth. Wallace smiled slightly and watched them panic. It was the most fun he’d had in a while. They all gathered at the door, except for Millie whom no one had seen in a few minutes.

“It’s gotta be electronic.” Said Wes, examining the keypad lock on the doorframe. “Which means it also must have power coming from somewhere.”

“Wouldn’t it just be running off the shelter’s power?” Asked Raymond.

“No.” Wes shook his head. “This place was designed to sit dormant until it was needed. It wouldn’t be draining its own power to run security. That’s why it’s in the middle of nowhere. Security isn’t as important.”

“Everyone look for a power source.” Said Brian. “Or an outlet we can plug an electrical cord into. Maybe that’s how it works.” As he said that, the little keypad blinked on a display screen lit up. A single light bulb above the door switched on, as well, stunning everyone into silence. From behind the small structure behind the door that led down into the shelter, they heard footsteps. It was Millie, striding through the grass.

“Did it come on?” Her machine asked them. She had figured all of this out way before any of them.

“What did you do?” Brian gulped.

“Found a solar power supply running to a battery. I figured it was running off remote power.”

“We still don’t have the code.” Raymond checked his watch. “And it’s been almost thirty minutes since launch.” Millie nodded and headed for the RV. She emerged a moment later carrying a small computer that looked like it was designed to be bullet proof. From a bag of connectors and wires she pulled out the necessary bit and removed a panel on the keypad to plug it in. She began typing computer commands, one right after the other as though they were cascading down the screen of her computer. Once more, in the distance, a mournful siren began to wail, rising quickly in volume to shriek out an atonal blast. It didn’t sound like the first siren. They all shared a worried look, except for Wallace.

“Could be an air raid siren.” He observed without a care. His manner was getting under everyone’s skin. Why wasn’t he scared?

“How long will this take?” Asked Raymond, keeping a fearful eye on the sky for the first sign of any falling nuclear stars. Raymond realized she hadn’t heard him and went to shake her by the shoulder, but Brian grabbed his hand.

“I don’t want her to have to stop so she can answer you.” He said calmly. “Let’s just sit here and hope it doesn’t take very long.” Raymond stepped away. He would only be in the way. The pilot was leaning against the RV, watching them hack the door.

“Hey.” Called Wallace as Raymond got nearer. “Can I have the keys to your RV? I mean, it’s the end of the world and all. You don’t need it anymore, right?” Raymond got close enough to see the man’s eyes but kept his distance, as though Wallace was a stray dog that might pounce at any moment.

“What’s it like?” Raymond asked him. “Being crazy, I mean. What’s it like?” Wallace shrugged.

“You get the best seats on trains.” He replied wryly. “Best seats at movie theaters. You NEVER have to wait in lines.”

“Just give me one straight answer about anything.” Begged Raymond.

“Just give me the keys to your vehicle.” Replied Wallace.

“You’re insane!” He shouted into Wallace’s face, eliciting merely a smile in return.

“I’m not the one who drove my daughter into the middle of nowhere for a scam.” Raymond took a step back. Anger and self-hatred roiled inside like a lava lamp. Suddenly, he wanted to beat this stupid asshole as near to death as possible. As he pictured the joy of doing it, he heard a click and the cranky swing of the metal door.

“We’re in!” Shouted Brian and they raced inside. Raymond jerked the pilot’s collar and dragged him towards the shelter.

“Let’s go see who’s crazy.” He growled. He dragged Wallace to where everyone crowded at the door, hurrying inside and quickly shutting it behind them.

“Is there anything to bar the door with?” Brian asked trying to hide his impending panic.

“There’s no time!” Snapped Raymond and they quickly made their way down into the darkness. Just inside the door, metal steps lead down about thirty feet and opened at the bottom to a narrow corridor with an arched top. It was all made of concrete and a switch on the wall brought fluorescent lights to life and they draped a green light over everything. Deep below they could hear the faint clanks and whirrs as machinery began to spin and generators jumped back to life. At the end of the hallway was a large metal door, the kind that movies use for banks. It even had a wheel in the center, but it was thankfully not closed.

As they stepped through the door, they entered another world. Inside was an immaculately preserved reception area. The wall bent on their right hand side, arcing to the left. On their left was a desk, behind which, on the wall, hung a glowing logo of Valhalla. There were a few chairs in a small alcove for waiting and a phone behind the desk. Concrete walls made smooth curves and the floor was beige carpet. The whole place used indirect lighting, which combined with the low ceiling, gave it a very starship Enterprise kind of feel. Millie felt right at home.

Raymond went behind the desk and picked up the phone. There was no signal. No dial tone. On the desk was another HAM setup, which Wes promptly powered up.

“I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on.” He said, flipping switches and turning dials. Flat static hissed at him through the radio and seemed to drone without change as he tuned the radio across the band. He must have done something wrong, he thought to himself and switched to another band to double check. Just more static.

“Why isn’t there any news?” Asked Raymond. “Before you I could always here something, even if it was just gibberish, but never was there just static.”

“I don’t know.” Wes admitted. “It doesn’t make sense. I should at least be able to hear something on the emergency band, but there’s nothing there.”

“What does that mean?” Asked Grey.

“I don’t know.” Wes shook his head. “I doubt it’s good news though.” Millie and Kite had flopped down into the chairs provided in the waiting area. They began to wonder what their next move should be. The waiting area wasn’t very far beneath ground and even if it survived an initial attack, the fact that it was only about forty feet in diameter meant that it would quickly become insufficient for all of them.

“I suppose they didn’t mention this in the paperwork, either?” Said Wes, not trying to sound like a dick, but still doing so. Raymond was too confused to be offended. He shook his head.

“So now what?” Asked Grey. He was already feeling claustrophobic.

“Do you think we’ll hear the explosions?” Asked Sarah.

“Don’t talk like that!” Barked Raymond and then immediately regretted it. “We’re going to make it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Wallace said, locking eyes with Raymond, just to piss him off. “You’ll hear the explosion.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Growled Raymond.

“If you’re close enough to it,” Wallace continued, “The shockwave will liquefy your intestines.”

“I said shut your fucking mouth!” Raymond exploded, grabbing Wallace by the collar and shoving him up against the wall.

“Who are you really angry at, Raymond?” Wallace said through a grin. “Me? Or yourself? Do you still think you’re one of the good guys? What you did, was it worth it?” Raymond punched the pilot, knocking him to the floor between the desk and the wall. He reached into his jacket and removed his 9mm pistol. Sarah jumped before anyone else.

“Dad!” She shouted, her voice drilling straight through the haze of rage through to his brain. “What are you doing?” He looked at her, then at the gun in his hand. He wasn’t sure anymore. Everything he did felt like it was a mistake and there was no escape from the trap. On the ground, the pilot started laughing.

“Dude,” Wes sounded worried. “Maybe you should just chill!” He didn’t want the pilot to piss off Raymond while he was still holding a gun. The pilot lay on his back looking up at the bottom of the desk. He reached up his hand and pressed a button situated on its underside. After a gentle ‘click’ and the hiss of air rushing in, a large section of the wall swung to the right, revealing a curved corridor bending perpetually to the left beyond, bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent tubes. The walls were illuminated and showed scenes of idyllic green pastures, a gentle waft slowly massaging the grass back and forth. They made their way into the strange hallway as though they were entering an alien spacecraft. No one had a frame reference for this situation.

The first door they came to was embedded in the right side of the corridor. It was an old fashioned oak door with a brass knocker and the sight of it almost made Millie burst out laughing. It just looked so weird, but she didn’t think anyone else would find it that amusing, so she kept it to herself. Raymond used the knocker and rapped three times, suddenly expecting the door to open and reveal a sharply dressed butler, but nothing happened. He tried the knob and twisted it with a satisfying click. The door opened and automatic lights bloomed into being. Raymond felt like he had just found Heaven.

“It looks exactly like the pictures.” He whispered, nearly in tears. The place was huge. To the right, a large sofa commanded only a small portion of the gigantic living space. There was a hallway on that side of the room leading off to the bedrooms. On the left was a sleek, modern kitchen and dining area. One entire wall was a bookshelf, overloaded with enough reading material to keep one busy until Jesus came back. The ceiling here was as low as the halls and the walls were white, but with no right angles. Each surface flowed into the other, giving it a soft, vintage space age vibe. If it had come with shag carpeting, it would have looked straight out of “Logan’s Run.”

“Great.” Announced the Pilot, after finally catching up with them. “We get to spend the last moment of our lives in a set from ‘2001’.” Nobody paid him any attention. They were finally safe, and even more importantly, Raymond had been right. He turned to Sarah.

“I did this for you, sweetie.” He said, and she jumped into his arms. “I did it all for you.” Relief filled his entire being as he luxuriated in the feeling of vindication. All he had done, everything he had sacrificed was for this moment, and it had been worth it. He had brought his daughter through the apocalypse to safety. How many people could say that? Judging by the empty shelter, not many. The rest of the group, feeling the effects of adrenaline crash collapsed onto the various surfaces to rest. Kite and Grey plopped down on the blue ‘L’ shaped couch, not bothering with the entertainment center it faced, but simply content to just sit without fear for a moment. Sarah joined them as Wes, Brian, and Millie took places around the large, oak dining table. The pilot lay down on the soft carpet and covered his eyes with his arm. He looked exhausted.

Wes found a spot on the bookcase that seemed to be designed for the HAM radio. There was a power outlet and another one labeled ‘External Antennae Array’. When he had hooked everything up, he switched it on and scrolled around various bands, looking for anything, but there was only static. He happened to remember what frequency had been designated for this date in the general’s notebook of Bible verses, but he wasn’t surprised to find that there was nothing on it, as usual. Finally, he gave up and just let it continue to hiss at him.

“So is this World War Three?” Asked Millie, deciding to confront the question head on rather than pretend everything was going to be okay. Nobody wanted to answer her, though.

“Looks that way.” Raymond finally said before cheering himself up. “Talk about good timing, huh? I mean, look at this place.” Millie had to admit that she was glad Raymond had brought them here. If she ignored the fact that there were no windows, just illuminated squares showing pastoral images, she could convince herself that this was a luxury hotel. It was certainly better by far than her own house, and modern as well. She took a moment to survey the books on the shelf. There were all the classics she had never read. Moby Dick. A Tale of Two Cities. The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire. That last one stood out among the famous works of fiction, but seemed appropriate for the setting. She thought of the old Twilight Zone episode where the henpecked guy finally survives the end of the world and is delighted that he can now read, but then he breaks his glasses.

“It’s not fair.” She typed into her machine. “There was time now.” Maybe it was the lack of inflection, but nobody seemed to realize that she was quoting a TV show and all she got was weird looks in response. “It’s from The Twilight Zone.” She clarified to still blank stares. “Never mind.” Maybe this was going to suck more than she realized.

“How long do you think we will have to stay down here?” Grey asked from the sofa, looking like a man who just wanted a number, not one who was worried about what that number might be. In fact, he looked more relaxed than ever, sitting there with Kite’s head in his lap. This could have been their home in an alternate universe.

“Quite a while.” Said Raymond. “This place was designed to be self-sustaining and hold six hundred people comfortably for at least a year.”

“What happened to the people who are supposed to be running it?” Wes wondered aloud. “And what are we going to do when more people show up?”

“I doubt we will have to worry too much about that.” Raymond said, suppressing a slight grin. “Now that missiles are in the air, there won’t be too many people looking for this place.” Brian noticed Raymond’s glee. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“That’s not good news, man.” He said, casting a pointed glare in Raymond’s direction who merely shrugged it off.

“Maybe they should have planned ahead.” He replied. “Like I did.” This caused the pilot to chuckle.

“Yeah.” He said without uncovering his eyes. “Great plan.”

“It saved your ass.” Raymond shot back.

“Should I thank you?” Wallace propped himself up on one hand so he could see Raymond properly. “Because of you, my copilot is dead. Because of you, my helicopter crashed and my arm is broken. Because of you, I’m in this goddamned tomb rather than being back at base.”

“You can leave.” Observed Raymond.

“Great.” The pilot stood up. “Give me the keys to your ride.” Raymond shifted in his seat.

“You can walk back to your base.” Raymond finally decided. The others were uncomfortable with the antagonism between the two men. They understood why Wallace might not trust Raymond, but they were just as uncomfortable taking his side in this argument. Grey tried his best to defuse the tension.

“You don’t want to leave, do you?” He asked Wallace. “Not with a world war raining down out there.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Wallace said, not hiding his contempt. Brian watched his face closely.

“You know something you’re not telling us, don’t you?” He asked.

“I know a lot of things.” He answered, causing Raymond’s ire to once more rise.

“If you’re such a big shot.” Raymond began. “Then tell us why you’re not worried about nuclear war.” The pilot said nothing. He simply glowered at Raymond. “Who are they firing at? Is it aliens?” The pilot laughed heartily.

“Yeah.” He finally said. “We’re at war with aliens. You nailed it!”

“Then what’s the truth?” Raymond demanded.

“What do you care about truth?” Wallace shot back.

“Then tell us.” Wes said, genuinely wanting to know. The pilot seemed to consider this for a moment.

“You wouldn’t believe it.” He said at last.

“Try us.” Brian joined the chorus.

“I can tell you there’s no nuclear war.” Wallace responded, straightening his spine. “The rest is classified.”

“Classified?” Now it was Raymond’s turn to laugh. “We’re at the end of civilization and you’re still worried about ‘classified’ information?”

“Is there a cure for what happened to us?” Kite asked, her sweet voice standing in contrast to everyone else’s growling. The softness of it had a visual impact on the pilot. It seemed he wasn’t keeping anything from them out of sheer spite.

“I told you.” He said more gently. “It’s classified.”

“Tell us anything that isn’t classified.” Millie offered. The idea that there might be a cure had never occurred to Raymond. Suddenly the image of his dead daughter leapt into his mind and he decided he had suffered enough.

“Fuck this.” He said, standing up.

“Are you going to pull your gun out again?” Wallace asked snidely. He’d had enough of Raymond’s bullshit.

“Maybe.” Raymond said. “Are you going to start talking?” The pilot mimed zipping his lip. “You love pushing buttons, don’t you?” Raymond asked, stepping closer to him. Wallace stood his ground as Raymond moved in. “Just tell me one thing.” He said, removing his gun from his jacket again, but this time doing it slowly and with measured calm. “Is there a cure.” Wallace showed no fear of the gun in his hand.

“You going to shoot me in your nice new house?” He asked. Raymond clicked the hammer back.

“Is there a cure?” He repeated himself.

“You know the smell of a blood covered wall is the kind of thing that can really affect the re-sale price on a home?” Raymond was losing control and the pilot didn’t seem to care.

“IS THERE A CURE?!” He shouted, pointing the gun directly at Wallace’s head, which only served to anger him.

“Fuck you.” Wallace said grimly. Raymond hit him on the side of the head with the butt of the pistol.

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!” Raymond’s voice was large and enraged. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do. Wallace seemed to understand that at long last.

“No!” Wallace shouted back. “There’s no cure!”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?” Raymond demanded, but Wallace remained silent. “HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT THERE’S NO CURE!” The pilot swatted Raymond’s gun away from his head.

“Cure for what?!” He shouted back into Raymond’s face. “This IS the cure!” Before Raymond could react to this, the HAM radio crackled to life. Triumphant fanfare blasted through the room, unsettling everyone with the strange joy of it.

“Greetings children of Christ.” Said a loud, clear voice. “Stand by for your daily devotional.” Everyone turned to face the radio, their brows rumpled and their mouths agape.

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