BUNKER 17

CONFUSION SUFFOCATES ME.

We seem to digest the news in silence for an eternity before anyone truly reacts to what we just heard. I try to make a sound or let out a scream but nothing comes out. Screams start softly at first, but as I try to gain my bearings in the darkness, they become louder, like the volume of the agony around me has been multiplied. The next sounds I hear put me on high alert.

A blaring alarm sounds above us, simultaneously bathing the bunker in a red glow. And a second later, the floor of the common room shifts, a low rumbling reverberating off the walls around us. In a frenzy, everyone runs for the refuge the hallway provides, and I follow suit, lost in a sea of bodies.

The wailing around me stifles my thoughts, a blanket of anxiety settling on my shoulders. There's one thing I notice for the first time in my life down here in the bunker. Monotony is nowhere to be found. Not lingering at the end of the hall, waiting to hitch a ride on my spine again. Not tailing behind me in the crowd.

Absolutely nowhere.

A rush of energy hits me as I spot the doorway of my bedroom off in the distance, doing my best to maneuver through the crowd. My safe haven calls for me, guiding me into its arms as I push my way through the door. It takes me a moment to catch my breath and gather myself, the alarm nagging at the base of my eardrums.

A light cough tells me I'm not the only one who's found refuge in my room, and I turn around, immediately frozen as I make eye contact with the girl I watched on the television screen what seems like ages ago.

Ivy Carlisle.

My feet carry me towards her involuntarily and I embrace her, ignoring her rigid stance in response. The thoughts that follow start out as grateful and full of hope.

She's real! The Surface is real!

She's here to save us!

Finally, life in the bunker is over.

That hope only lasts a moment because the next thought that invades my mind is actually a memory. A memory of the broadcast that told me my entire life has been built on a lie. The look on her face was so distraught, the weight of her secret physically crushing her. Her words came out so frantically, and the broadcast being cut short meant that for the first time, she was actually reporting the truth.

A truth that someone behind the scenes didn't want her to share with those of us living beneath the surface. I stagger backward in disgust, the picture of hope I'd held onto for so long suddenly morphing into that of a fox, the trickster's cunning ways finally exposed.

She is not who I thought she was.

"What are you doing here?" I manage to spit out, the words scratching the sides of my throat. The bass in my voice surprises us both and her expression becomes frantic. This is the first time I notice that she has multiple wounds, blood monochrome underneath the red light around us.

An act, no doubt. I can't let her feed me any more of her lies.

"I'm sorry," she stutters. "There was nowhere else to go but here." She struggles to find the right words and my impatience boils on the inside.

"What did you mean they're lying? That everything is fine?"

She holds her gaze steady on me, speaking the words I feared. Words I never expected to hear, and from the one person I believed was looking out for us. "There's no war."

⏳

I'M NO LONGER STANDING IN MY ROOM.

Instead, I'm transported to the last day I spent with both of my parents. I'd slept on the floor of their room the night before, eager to wake up and start the day with my father before my mother woke up. From the moment they got sick, I hardly let them out of my sight, doing everything I could to cater to their every need.

That morning, one of the Authority guards was scheduled to come in and check on the status of their condition. I'd begged multiple times for assistance, willing to put in the effort to nurse them back to health if it meant I'd become the makeshift doctor of the bunker.

But, they told me the medical facility had been destroyed in the war. And with it, all of the medicine that I could've ever needed. The medicine that could've saved my parents' lives.

I was up before anyone else, headed straight for the kitchen. I started by making their chamomile tea. Although we'd just received our rations for the quarter, the choices seemed to dwindle with each delivery. My bunkmates were kind enough to reserve the tea and soup for my parents in the hopes that it'd provide some sort of relief.

Although nothing grand, the soup was considered one of our better food items. I tried my best to spruce it up with our small array of seasonings, balancing everything in my hands before carrying it all back to my parent's room. After setting out their breakfast, I got cozy in the corner, spreading my papers out across the floor.

I set my flashlight against the wall at an angle, an art that took weeks to perfect. This day in particular, I was writing about love, an idea I was familiar with because of my relationship with my parents.

No matter how dreary life could get in the bunkers, they never failed to make the most of it. They always looked on the bright side and encouraged me to search for the silver lining in every situation.

But that morning was the worst day of my life. The day that I lost my mother and Monotony finally got a hold of me. It happened suddenly. Like Death couldn't wait to take her hand.

One minute, I was joking around with my father, my heart beaming at the smile he put on just for me. He had pale skin and deep craters underneath his eyes, but I could tell he was pushing himself.

My mother was sitting up in bed, taking a sip of her tea every once in a while, watching us with tired eyes. In a matter of seconds, her tray slipped from her grasp, and her head jerked backward.

I rushed to her aid, shouting a warning in hopes someone would hear me. Her skin was scorching to the touch, eyes clamped shut. I called her name and tried to pull her up, but my efforts were useless.

Minutes later, an Authority guard marched into the room, brushing me aside. The structure of his suit is something I can never forget, sterile white material causing him to stand out against the warm, faded colors of the room.

Despite his attempt to wake her using a syringe of green liquid, she lay lifeless, part of my heart leaving with her. The tears didn't come until the following week when my father met the same fate.

When I was left to navigate life without my parents.

⏳

THE EMOTIONS COME RUSHING BACK.

Now, looking at what was once my symbol of hope, I feel hate. Hate for the lies she told. Hate for allowing us to suffer down here for all these years. Hate for the guard who lied to me and let my parents die.

"How could you live with yourself?" I scoff, my blood boiling. I can feel myself slipping away, replaced by something foreign.

"I couldn't do it any longer," Ivy stammers, fumbling over her words. "I couldn't keep lying to you for him."

I don't know who she's referring to, but I don't care. Before I can stop myself, my true feelings spill out. "My parents died down here. But your guards said the medical facilities were ruined in the war. But that was a lie, wasn't it?" Her eyes grow wide, but I don't give her the chance to answer, trying on a mask of anger.

My newest acquaintance.

"Tell me something, Ivy. How's life on the Surface? How does it feel being down here with us, where life is all about barely eating and hoping for a new life that'll never come?"

"I'm so sorry, Ezra. I will do everything in my power to make this right," she pleads.

The sound of my name adds fuel to the fire, Anger taking over as I run in her direction, hands outstretched for revenge. But screams coming from the Garden allow me to take control again, only one thing on my mind now.

The twins.

I turn on my heels just inches away from Ivy and head straight for the Garden. The sound of footsteps behind me tells me she's following my lead, but I don't wait for her to catch up.

I can't lose the only people I have left in this world.

Just as I reach the entrance to the Garden, the groaning noise sounds again and I feel the ground shift beneath me. It nearly knocks me off my feet but I push forward, eyes set on the hallway that leads to Bunker 13.

Almost there.

Just as I pass the tables, I see Grant rush into the hallway's opening. His eyes grow wide as he reaches behind him into the darkness, pulling Gracie along with him. And then my worst fear plays out right before my eyes.

Two Authority guards step into view, reaching for the two people who managed to fill a bit of the void left by my parents. I scream in protest, willing my feet to move faster than they already are.

But I'm too late. A clear glass panel falls in between us, separating me from the siblings I've acquired by circumstance.

I bang on the glass, willing myself to break through and save them. To do what I couldn't do for my parents. Gracie slips out of the guard's grasp, throwing herself into the glass in an attempt to reach me.

Tears stream down her face, her lips forming my name in desperation. "It'll be okay, I promise," I shout, praying they can hear me through the glass wall. Praying I can deliver on my promise.

I feel two more pieces of my heart disappear as they're pulled away, my time to mourn cut short by the shifting of the floor beneath me. I brace myself, scanning the rest of the Garden.

Ivy's not too far away from me, kneeling as the room spins. She yells out for me but her voice is drowned out by a steady humming that fills the air.

Suddenly, bright light streams into the room from directly above us. I steal a quick glance before shielding my eyes.

The Garden's ceiling recedes slowly, revealing something I've only seen in the videotapes I've watched a thousand times. The source of the light cutting through the red glow in the bunker.

Sunlight.