Chapter 2, Fire and Flood I lurched awake with no warning as I was thrown into the air and against the wall. My fall was broke by luck as I landed on the mattress that had also been launched into the air with me. The sounds of breaking glass, squeals of twisting metal, and ceiling tiles being wrench from their anchor bolts added to the confusion. I instinctively covered my head with my hands as tiles rained down around me. The rumble of an explosion somewhere beyond my room seemed to signal certain doom. The dim emergency lights flickered on over my door, casting wild shadows around the room. In a blind panic, I grabbed hold of my mattress and rolled it over me, willing myself to become one with the ground for protection against whatever was happening. Dad’s words echoed in my head; “If you ever get caught in a cave-in, get under anything that will protect you from falling rock.” Is that what was happening? Was the mine and bunker collapsing? The floor settled into a steady staccato rolling that felt as if someone was punching me in the gut over and over. I rolled the mattress so half was on top of me, and half was under me. In the dim light of the emergency lights, it seemed to me that my room was rolling like ocean waves. I remember dad saying the bunker was designed to roll and sway in the event of an earthquake, but how many waves were there? The rolling lasted forever. At last, the bucking of the floor calmed to a steady tremor running beneath me. I peeked out from under the mattress. I wasn’t dead yet, but the drop-down ceiling had collapsed onto the floor, along with most of the false walls that made my room appear like I was in a normal house. I could see the solid concrete and steel support beams that formed the structure of the bunker. Just as I thought it was over, the piercing sound of the fire alarm began. Fire was the biggest threat to a bunker. A fire could suck all the oxygen out of the air and destroy vital equipment needed for survival in minutes. I crawled out from under the mattress just in time for the fire sprinklers to come on, and the water was cold. I pulled my door open, and nearly fell on the slippery floor in front of Dad’s room. I pushed his door open and looked inside. He wasn’t there. I checked my watch to see how long I’d been asleep - only an hour and a half. Dad wouldn’t have made it back yet. Whatever was on fire, I’d have to deal with it on my own. The acrid scent of smoke filled the air, making my eyes water as I pushed my way through the debris and growing flood of water in the halls. The sound of crackling flames grew louder with each step, guiding me towards the source. As I entered the kitchen, my heart froze at the sight before me. The once orderly space was now a chaotic mess - pots and pans were scattered on the floor, shattered dishes covered every surface, and the old stove was on it’s side. A roaring jet of flame shot out from a broken gas pipe in the wall, and the work table was on fire, and despite the water sprinklers fiercely raining down on the table, it seemed like a lost cause against the raging flames feeding the inferno from the gas pipe. Water and slush swirled around my bare feet. I had stupidly forgot to grab my shoes, but there wasn’t time to go back for them now. I looked up at the sprinklers. If the fire had only been in the kitchen, why were the sprinklers on in the whole bunker? Was there another fire? I left the kitchen, and ran towards the utility room. I felt debris slashing at my feet and looked down. The water swirling around my feet was red with blood. The forklift was still where I left it, but I could see the interior blast doors beyond were shut. The sound of them closing had probably been what I thought was an explosion. There were no fires in the utility room, but the vent pumps were off, but that wasn’t my first priority. I rushed to the master gas valve and twisted it shut. I hoped that would end the flames jutting out from the broken gas line in the kitchen. My next concern was the ventilation system. I couldn’t just turn it back on, that might make things even worse. Feeding oxygen to fire was never a good idea, the fire needed to be out before I turned the air on, but I still needed to breathe. I grabbed an oxygen tank and threw it over my back, then fit the mask over my face. The tank had 30-minutes of air in it, and that would have to be enough. If I didn’t get the fire out, the bunker would be gone in less than 30-minutes anyway, and then they could just sweep my charred bones into a bag when they found me. I saw a pair of dad’s work boots in the corner next to a toolbox that had tipped over. They were soggy and full of water, but better than nothing. I winced from the cuts on my feet as I pulled them on. They fit surprisingly well. When had I gotten almost as big as Dad? I hurried down the hall, dread increasing with each step until I reached the end. A dense wall of heat and steam hit me like a physical force. There was a fire in the garage. The doors must have closed automatically when the sensors in the garage detected the fire. I reached a hand out, but the metal was too hot to touch. The water from the sprinklers sizzled into steam as they fell on the door. There had to be an enormous blaze going on inside. I knew if I opened those doors, flames would engulf me in an instant. I thought of dad’s beloved military surplus vehicles, they would be a complete loss. I really wanted the big tracked M88 to make it. We’ve used it before to help the Forestry Service make fire breaks. I hoped it would survive the raging inferno. Maybe the fire would consume all the oxygen inside and burn itself out before the thickly armored vehicle was destroyed. There wasn’t anything I could do standing here in a rising puddle of debris. I needed to find out what had happened, and the damage control computer was probably where I’d get some answers. I turned away from the blast doors, and froze in absolute terror. I saw a body floating in the water coming right at me. I heard the person scream as the arms reached out, begging for help. Had a tourist accidentally gotten locked in the bunker? Oh my God, how could this happen? My hands were trembling as I rushed to the person and knelt down and… I am so glad nobody was here to see this. The scream had come from me, and the body floating in the water was a mannequin, and I knew which one. She was from the Roaring 20’s museum room and her pose was with another mannequin as they danced the Charleston. My fear turned to anger that I had been scared so badly by a mannequin. I stood and kicked the mannequin, and made things worse. The head came loose and I watched it float away, its eyes staring accusingly at me. Yep, I was going to need so much therapy after this. I shook it off and headed for dad’s office. The damage control computer wasn’t as fancy as it sounded, it was just a computer hooked up to the server room where ten thousand wires ran to every sensor in and on the mountain. The server room had been built by grandpa back in the seventies and looked like a giant rat lived in there collecting wires. Dad was always arguing with Grandpa about the computer system. Dad wanted to hire a professional to come and put a modern computer system together, but Grandpa insisted we could buy everything we needed at Circuit City and do it ourselves. It hadn’t registered with Grandpa’s brain that Circuit City had been great back in the 70’s, but had now been out of business for the last 14 years, along with Radio Shack, Fry’s, and just about every other computer store. Dad and Grandpa’s office was up a flight of steel stairs in what had been the mine foreman’s office a gazillion years ago, and there were no sprinklers up there, so at least it would be dry. I stopped at the bottom of the steps. Grandpa’s desk was lying broken in pieces on the ground. I looked up and saw the broken window it had gone through. Dad had been grumbling for a while now that it was time for Grandpa to retire and turn the whole bunker over to him. I guess the bunker had decided for him and tossed his desk out the window. I took the stairs two at a time, and found the office just as I expected it would be. Dad’s desk had nearly gone out the window also, along with the computer and anything else that hadn’t been tied down. I didn’t bother with Dad’s desk, I just needed the computer. The computer and monitor were one piece and attached to it’s own stand. I dragged it back next to the server room door where it normally stood. I don’t know how it didn’t break when it had been thrown across the room - maybe because it was built like a tank, and weighed as much; the thing was ancient. Maybe I should push it into a museum room and call it the ancient bunker control center. I could sit a mannequin with a crew-cut behind it. I pushed it up to a standing position and connected all the cables that had been ripped out. The clip on the LAN cable was broken, but it might have already been broken. This was a really old computer. I pressed the power button, then went to drag the dot-matrix printer back over next to it. The computer was still booting up and would take a moment, it ran on a version of Unix that was probably invented during the Jurassic era, but it would have the log file I needed. I pulled up a chair and sat down to wait. I watched the screen and hoped the computer would give us one more day of life. How is it we were running a modern bunker on software written in 1969? Seriously, Grandpa, update already and join the 21st Century. The screen finally came to life. I bent over and used the arrow keys to navigate through the menus - my smart phone had a better computer inside it. I found the log file I needed and opened it. I read the first line, and my brain completely shut down, it had to be a mistake, it wasn’t possible. My hands started to shake and my vision narrowed like I was going to pass out. I felt sick, and thought I was going to throw up. “You have everything you need to survive,” I heard Dad’s voice say. My head whipped around to stare at the door. Nobody was there. Nobody was in the room. But…I swear I heard him. I jumped up, knocking the chair over, and ran to the door, but there wasn’t anyone outside. I shook my head and looked back in the room and was confused for a moment why Dad’s desk wasn’t where it was supposed to be. My head swam and I felt so sick. “You’re in shock,” said Dad’s voice. “Sit down and put your head between your legs.” I dropped down on the floor and obeyed the imaginary voice. “Where are you, Dad?” “I was coming back from town, you know what happened,” said the voice. I choked back the tears and shook my head. “No, I’m making you up in my head.” “Everything you need is here, you are the last Robinson - You are Robinson Crusoe, and this is your island. You must survive.” I smiled weakly. After Dad had read the book to me, I’d pestered him for days to build me a castle just like Robinson Crusoe had. Dad built it, and I’d spent every weekend playing in it. I’d even camped out in the castle for most of that summer. He took to calling me Robinson Crusoe until I grew out of playing in the castle. Even Grandpa played along and got me a straw hat. I rolled over onto my hands and knees, and threw up. “I really am Robinson Crusoe” I whispered to myself after I’d finished emptying the contents of my stomach. I slowly got up and went back to the computer. I didn’t want to look at the list of events, but it would tell me all the things I needed to do if I was going to survive. I pushed the print button and listened to the slow clacking of the printer. When it had finished, I ripped the paper out of the machine. It read like a horror story. There were so many critical systems not responding that I wasn’t sure where to start. My eyes went back to the first line of the log report. Multiple Nuclear Detonations Detected