“I don’t want a shower anymore,” Ash said firmly, grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it on. “Let’s go talk to him now.” He turned around and sped out of the room.
I sighed and got out of bed, locating my various articles of clothing strewn about the room, putting them on. I stumbled on something and saw a book laying on the ground, the one that Ash had been reading when I had come into the room. I lifted it up and felt the corners of my mouth turn up, almost involuntarily. In my hand was the most familiar book to me, one that I had read so many times it nearly fit in my hands perfectly. The Mists of Avalon. I knew it wasn’t my copy, but it felt just like my own. Someone in this house loved this book as much as I did. I closed it, and pressed it to my chest, overwhelmed with emotions for a moment. I placed the book back on the bed and followed Ash out of the room.
They were both in the kitchen. Bert was sitting at the worn table, a beat up book of crossword puzzles in his hands. Ash was standing in front of him, his arms tight across his chest.
“What’s going on?” I asked, as I entered, running a hand through my tangled hair. I slid into a chair across from Bert and looked back and forth between them.
“He didn’t want to say anything until you got here,” Ash said, his voice terse. There was the sound of pencil against paper as Bert continued working on a crossword puzzle. “Never mind that he told you about Sanctuary before I knew anything about it.”
“Ash,” I warned.
“Well, come on, Bert, you going to finally fill us in? Maybe tell us how you were randomly there to save our lives? How do we know you’re not working for Sekhmet?”
“Ash,” I said, louder. He turned to me, his eyes meeting mine, and I silently pleaded with him to stop. His face softened, and a small smile hinted at the corners of his lips. I felt a rush of affection pummel through me. “Sit down, okay?”
He glared at Bert, who was still steadfastly ignoring Ash, and slid into the chair next to me. His hand reached for mine, and my fingers slid between his.
The puzzle book was finally put down, and Bert raised his head to look at the both of us. “I wish I could keep you both here but I can’t. I have to take you to Sanctuary. It’s my job.”
“Your job?” I said, worry in my voice. “I thought you said you used to work for Sanctuary?”
“I did.” Bert’s deep voice filled the echoing kitchen, each word slow and careful. “I was part of security at Sanctuary for most of my life, until my wife died. She was a doctor at Sanctuary. We dedicated our lives to the place, a place where we could go should the worst happen.”
He sighed, looking out the window. Ash’s hand tightened around me, and I scooted my chair closer to him. “When my wife died, I couldn’t be there anymore. It hurt too much to be there. So I left. But you can’t just leave Sanctuary. So, yes, Miss Zoey, I do not work there anymore but my life is dedicated to it. I can never truly leave it. And I must take you there.”
“But what is Sanctuary?” I asked, biting my lip nervously. “I don’t understand.”
“During the 1950s, when the idea of nuclear war started to become a real fear, there was a group of people that realized that bomb shelters were not going to save us. We needed a place, a place where we could seek refuge. Back then, it was nuclear war, but as time passed, we knew that it was more than that: natural disaster, civil war, economic breakdown.”
“Zombies?” I asked.
A small smile crept onto Bert’s lips, and I was surprised at it. “No, no, that was the sort of thing we never would have thought. But despite having never been prepared for that, Sanctuary is still perfect for it. It was created to be a perfect refuge. It’s built into the cliffs of Mesa Verde National Park, and it was created with every need in mind. There are doctors and scientists and teachers and everything else needed for a new society to grow. A good size population can live and survive in this underground fortress for years, waiting for the world outside to be ready to start over again.”
“I met my wife when she was a student at Columbia University, in the ’70s. She was studying to become a doctor, and I was working the late night shift on security duty on campus. She always called for an escort, and I volunteered more than once to escort her to her car. Prudence was a beautiful lady, incredibly beautiful, and even smarter than she was beautiful.”