“You have a candle in your purse?” Tony asked.
“I have several. I grabbed them from the rations we left behind. I don’t have a light though.”
One of the guards commented. “We have like ten thousand down stairs.” Then mumbled. “Lot of good it does us.”
The smoker. Nelly. I knew she had a light. I no sooner faced her then she was pulling out a small box of matches from her smoker’s paradise handbag.
“Here,” she said. “I didn’t bring a lighter. They don’t last.”
“Thank you.” I clutched the matches. I glanced one more time to Jackson, said a short prayer in my mind that he’d be all right, then I walked toward the interior bunker door.
To me, at that moment, that door was our last hurdle and then we’d be safe. I was sure of it.
23 – THE LAST MATCH
The guards sealed the blast doors to the bunker to keep the ash from blowing into the bay. It was time to get the lights turned on.
Tom led the way and reached for the door. “We’ll have to go through this, down a short corridor and then down some stairs. That’s the door you need to open.”
I understood. Tony was behind me and before we went through, I said to him. “I just want to thank you for carrying my son.”
“You already did.”
“Well, I’m thanking you again because I don’t remember.”
It was already darker by that door, when the three of us arrived. When Tom pushed on the metal door, it looked liked he pushed into a black wall.
I handed Tony the candle and reached for the matches.
“Don’t drop any,” Tony said. “I know we have ten thousand, but if this doesn’t work and this place doesn’t light up, we’re gonna be using an awful lot of them.”
That match, that single match. It could very well be the first of many to give us our light or it could be the last I had to strike out of necessity.
There was a certain amount of fear in lighting that match.
The orange flame, the candle would both be reminders of the dark ages we were about to enter.
I finally lit the match and then the wick on the emergency candle and passed it to Tom.
He led the way, but even my candle didn’t give that much light or really allow me to see what things looked like.
We made our way down a short corridor to an open doorway.
“Careful,” Tom said. “Stay close and hold the rail. The steps themselves are narrow as it is. So don’t overstep.”
They were narrow and steep. We walked slowly down ten steps, around a bend, down ten more, and so forth. I dreaded walking back up them.
It felt as if we went down five flights, but I lost count worrying about the journey.
“Once we get the lights on, you’ll be able to see on the way up.” Tom said.
“Keep in mind,” Tony said. “I only oversaw the designing. If I had I designed it, I would have put a full elevator in.”
“We have a lift,” Tom said. “From storage up. And don’t let him blow smoke up your ass, I saw the final requisition, and the orders. No elevator. Anthony something or other.”
“Guilty. Man, is it dark.”
“Yeah, I feel bad for the chickens.” Tom inched back to show me the lock.
I was still mentally questioning the use of the word ‘chickens’.
“Here it is.” He showed me an old style dial latch, all set to zeros. Six digits were needed to open the door.
“That’s it?” Tony pointed. “That’s the big, hi tech security system and fail safe?”
“There are one million possible combinations,” Tom quipped. “You gonna try them all?”
“No,” Tony shook his head. “I would use C4 and blow the door. But that’s just me.”
“Not all of us walk around with C4.”
“Gentlemen,” I interrupted. “Let’s get this done. Tom hold the candle. Cause I don’t have any idea what the number would be.”
“Six digits, has to be a date,” Tony suggested. “Try it.”
I took a breath and put in the first date that came to mind. I rolled each digit to be precise. My birthday.
Nothing.
Jackson’s birthday.
Nothing.
Not even Gil’s birthday.
Tony suggested again, “Try your anniversary. He is sentimental. After all the guy built you this shelter.”
I tried the anniversary. Nothing. It didn’t work.
I growled in frustration and turned around, back against the door. “I have no idea. I tried the dates only I would know. I can’t imagine a date, Gil knew, that I for…” My words slowed. “Got.” And I spun around.
“I think she knows.” Tony said.
After rolling in the digits, I actually heard the click. “Yes.” I clenched my fist.
Tom opened the door and slipped inside. “Give me a second to get the generators started.” He raced down the hall and to the next door.
“What date was it?” Tony reached for my phone and used it to give us some light.
“The day our divorce was finalized.”
“You remembered that?”
“Actually, Gil did. It was finalized on April Fool’s day and he kept insisting it didn’t count. I always said it was the one date I wouldn’t forget. Because of when it was.” My head cocked when the beautiful sound of humming rang out.
Next thing, Tom shouted, “And the Lord said….”
A series of shifting occurred and the whole area lit up.
I smiled. “Let there be light.”
We were a tubular hallway; it looked like a well painted storm drain with a flat floor.
Tom appeared at the other end, standing in the door. “You can bring everyone down now. Tony, you know where to take them.”
“I do.”He handed me my phone and led the way.
“When is the last time you were here?” I asked.
“About two months ago. This one was my favorite, my baby. Although the one in Germany is sweet. One level but it’s all veins and spider webs. An underground city. We never finished the west wing. We always said that could be a project for survivors to pass the time.” He propped up the fail safe door and we headed up the stairs.
“It feels very safe here.”
“It is. It feels removed.”
We talked less walking up, it was quite a journey. About two thirds of the way there, I told Tony he should have put in an elevator.
To which he replied, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
There was a positive feeling that stirred within me. Knowing we were safe and sound. Knowing we would be sheltered from most of what was going to happen.
Yes, we had been though a lot to get there, but we arrived and with that arrival came life.
We were going to live through it.
That was such a positive thing, I couldn’t help but feel better. Much more upbeat, we reached the top, caught our breath and Tony opened the door.
The concrete bay, just inside the entrance was no longer dim and lit by a single lantern. It was brightened by old fashioned, caged in bulb lights on the wall.
As we emerged, everyone was gathered near the door. Huddled in a group, their backs were to us.
Everyone.
There were no voices or talking, only odd sounds of sniffles and coughs.
Tony glanced at me then called out. “What’s going on?”
Immediately, Joie slipped from the group and raced over to Tony. He lifted her.
Then all of them, at the same time, turned and looked at me.
I took two steps forward and as I did they parted like the red sea to expose Craig on the floor with Jackson. He was holding my son’s hand.
Face red, eyes glossed over and with a look of pain and desperation, Craig peered up at me. “I’m sorry, Anna. I am so sorry.” His head lowered. “Jackson’s gone.”