Spark Rising

His stomach sank. It would be overwhelming. Add on everything she’d been through before she’d even arrived, and the loss of the affections of the one person she’d spent every day with for months, and it was too much. He understood with sudden clarity: She might be pissed at Jackson, but all of it together was too much. She was doing the best she could with what she had, and if dipping past her reserves from time to time made her moody and difficult, perhaps they should all back off and let her breathe.

 

He intended to give her the time she needed in old Idaho. When he pulled into the station, he powered down and turned to Herrons while the others gathered their packs.

 

“Mountain Home is Zone Four, and it’s too dangerous to risk the attention significant repairs might bring. The lights work, but the plumbing doesn’t. If you have to relieve yourself while you wait, you’ll have to go topside. I’d rather you did it after dark.”

 

Herrons nodded his understanding.

 

“After you bring the relief team back here tomorrow, make camp here inside the train. We’ll be back day after tomorrow, sometime in the afternoon.”

 

 

 

“Day after tomorrow?” Jackson interrupted, surprised.

 

Alex nodded, his voice inviting no discussion, “Change of plans.” He returned his attention to Herrons. “In the event something goes wrong, follow protocol. Do not attempt to begin a search or rescue on your own initiative. Is that understood?”

 

Herrons nodded once. “I understand, sir.”

 

Alex nodded and trooped out, Jackson and Lena behind him. The station was bare-bones, on the off-chance someone native to the Zone wandered in. The detritus of its previous use over two hundred years ago hadn’t been cleared, except to restore the stairs up to the exit. And that work was subtle.

 

When they came up to the exit from the station, he keyed open the lock box. Before the other two went through, he warned her. “This was a secure facility beneath a military base. When the power went, and the fuel-based generators didn’t come online, the workers down here were trapped. Like I said, no restoration work has been done up here. It’s too risky.” He didn’t expect her to be particularly squeamish, but better to be aware. “The bodies are still here. Keeps people out. Keeps those who might come in from going deeper. Just a heads up.”

 

They moved through the corridors and up the staircases. It wasn’t a big facility, nothing like Fort Nevada, so they made good time. Alex powered up each room as they entered and shut it down again behind them. It wasn’t bad down here, on the third below-ground level. Except for the odd stray survivor who’d wandered off to die alone on the lower levels once they’d realized the inevitable, the lower levels were okay.

 

The top level was a mess. The entry and what looked to have been a meeting room were the worst. It was clear from the positions of the bodies that something had happened down here. People didn’t die of starvation or suffocation crawling over each other in a vain attempt to escape. Someone, he’d thought from his very first trip through, had decided the air and the food would last a little longer if there were fewer sharing it. He had bleakly wondered if he might do the same. He’d long since learned not to second-guess himself.

 

They reached the entry. Alex powered up the lights and glanced over his shoulder at the sharply-indrawn breath behind him. Lena’s face was pale but set. The body closest to the door through which they had entered was the most horrific.

 

He lay spread-eagle on his back, exactly as he had fallen. Skin, shiny and brown with age, had shrunken onto his bones. His mouth gaped in a centuries-long silent shriek while empty eye sockets stared up at the ceiling. Both hair and clothing were wispy and tattered. The brown-stained front of his shirt had several large, gaping rents in it, giving testimony to the wounds which had caused his fall. He was the worst. Once they got past him, the rest were too tangled to pick out the same level of detail.

 

Alex walked through the mass of desiccated, air-mummified bodies to the secured outside access point ahead, placing his feet carefully to show Lena where to step. He began the process of powering up the new security and keying it open as Lena and Jackson made their slow way down the path. The door cycled open, and Alex pushed at it, freeing them.

 

As they entered a final staircase up inside the long-abandoned and weathered building, Alex whispered an admonition to them. “No speaking at all from the moment we hit the surface. You keep your eyes on me and do exactly as I signal. Lena, we do not relax until we are within cover of the canyon two miles to the west.” He gave Jackson a look meant to remind him they did not ever relax.

 

The building itself had mostly collapsed, leaving a skeleton of support beams and door frames. Only the rear wall and the stairwell remained intact. Alex slid from frame to frame, taking stock of the surrounding area.

 

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