Devil's Attic

Epilogue

12 YEARS LATER

The security guard's weariness was palpable, his exhaustion reaching its peak at two o'clock in the morning. For a grueling four months, he had been toiling away on the night shift at the munitions factory in Parksville, Colorado. His sole responsibility was to safeguard the facility while drowning in cups of coffee. Though aware that the factory produced more than just ammunition, he was bound by a strict vow of secrecy. He shuffled wearily into the cramped kitchen, preparing a fresh cup of coffee before embarking on his sluggish rounds.

His first checkpoint was the front door, where he decided to steal a brief moment for a smoke break. Balancing a cup of coffee and his cell phone, he cautiously inserted the key into the lock, casting anxious glances at the nearby surveillance camera. Surprisingly, the management at this facility seemed lax, permitting him to indulge in smoking and playing games on his phone as long as no incidents occurred. Seeking shelter from the building's structure to light his cigarette, an abrupt chill ran down his spine, jolting him from his drowsiness. Startled, he felt an icy object pressed against his neck. A voice growled, "Unlock."

Gripped by fear, the guard involuntarily dropped everything he held in his trembling hand. Quivering with terror, the security guard fumbled with his keys, struggling to insert the key into the lock with shaky fingers. "Please, spare me," he whimpered. "I have a family, two children, and a wife."

"I couldn't care less," the assailant snarled, maintaining the cold, hard pressure against the guard's neck. With no alternative, the guard was coerced into the building, his heart pounding in his chest. "I want what you're hiding here," the man behind him demanded, causing the guard's mouth to gape in horror.

As a guardian of the company's secrets, it was his duty to protect them, but with a gun pressed against his neck, he was willing to do anything to survive. The attacker seized the defenseless man by the collar, and with trembling hands, the guard gestured to the right. "Back there," he whispered monotonously, his voice barely audible as he was dragged along by the armed intruder.

The security guard was acutely aware of the assailant's intentions. Despite the scheduled removal of the factory's stockpile of ammunition and hydrogen bombs the following day, the raid had to take place immediately. The guard unlocked the storage room, and the attacker emitted a low whistle of appreciation. Before them lay a new breed of bomb, compact enough to fit in one hand yet capable of inflicting catastrophic damage. These bombs were the crown jewels of the company, produced in large quantities for the Chinese market.

Without warning, a second individual materialized behind the security guard, pushing a rolling cart. "Load them," the smaller figure hissed, brandishing a weapon. Held at gunpoint, the guard meticulously stacked the diminutive bombs onto the cart.

In a matter of minutes, the entire stock had been depleted. The smaller person propelled the cart forward while the first attacker prodded the guard onward with the weapon. "You're coming with us," he whispered, and before he comprehended the situation, the guard found himself sandwiched between the stolen bombs and the assailants in a waiting van.

As the car began to move, the attacker removed his ski mask, revealing his face. "That went even smoother than anticipated," Jonathan remarked, a smile forming on his lips as he let out a soft chuckle.

"Easy for you to say," Paul grumbled, his frustration evident in his tone. "I had to work night shifts for four damn months. It completely wrecked my sleep schedule."

From the driver's seat, Eden chuckled and removed her mask. "Don't worry, Paul. You'll be able to sleep soon enough. And I mean, you'll sleep like a baby."

Jonathan understood exactly what Eden meant. Ever since their escape from the mesa, none of them had been able to sleep soundly. Nightmares plagued them, and even though they had relocated to the other side of the country, the fear still lingered.

Years passed, and they remained in close contact with Paul, who was also grappling with the trauma they had endured. They had never disclosed the true nature of their experience underground to the police, only claiming that their friends had perished in a landslide. But they had a plan, one that had been in the works for years. Their ultimate goal was to blow up the entire mesa, and they had spent countless hours devising and refining it. The last step was to acquire the necessary explosives, and then they would be ready for their grand finale. Jonathan, Eden, and Paul had each taken on different jobs to acquire the various pieces of equipment they needed for their plan.

"Speaking of baby," Paul said, grinning, "how's Ruth doing? Is she still playing volleyball?"

"Oh, absolutely," Jonathan chuckled, his heart brimming with affection at the thought of his daughter. "In fact, her younger sister has recently embarked on her ballet journey, and Henry is eager to join the soccer team next summer."

"Wow, it's hard to believe it's been six months since we last saw each other." Paul shook his head in disbelief. "It's been a tough time."

To avoid any communication that could compromise their plan, they cut off all contact with each other. The only exception was a letter from Paul that contained the date of the attack. "That's true," Eden chimed in from the front seat. "Ruth has been really missing you."

After driving for hours, they arrived at an abandoned storage house where Eden parked the van. They quickly transferred the bombs to two jeeps that were equipped with extra gasoline canisters for the long journey ahead.

***

Thirteen hours later, the mesa finally came into view. In silence, Paul parked the car and joined Eden and Jonathan who already waited on a nearby hill, the same spot where they had sat on their horses twelve years ago. "It's strange," Eden whispered, snuggling into Jonathan's arm. "Even after all these years, it looks exactly the same."

Jonathan reminisced about the time they had stopped at this very spot after their escape and looked back at the mesa. They had paused briefly to quench their thirst before mounting their horses and embarking on the grueling journey home. He took a deep breath and smiled at Eden. "It will all be over soon," he whispered reassuringly.

***

It took them two days to meticulously position the bombs, utilizing drones to transport them to carefully calculated locations. Now, standing shoulder to shoulder with Eden in the center, the three of them gazed out over the mesa. "We're fully prepared," Paul declared with determination, double-checking the radio connection one last time.

"Okay," Jonathan said, turning to face his companions. "This is for Henry, for Kevin, for Kayla, for Claire, and Kyle."

"And for us," Eden added, placing her hand on the red button.

"And for all the people whose path will ever cross this goddamn place," Paul whispered, placing his hand on top of Eden's.

Jonathan took a deep breath and placed his hand on top of the others. "Okay, Let's blow this damn mesa up now," he whispered and they pressed the button.

***

THE END.