Bunker 31

Going Home

NEXT MORNING, SALVAGING CAMP

"Wake up!!!"  lt. Harkszkold yelled loudly. "Whuh??" moaned Kaylin. "YOU WANT TO GET BACK TO BASE, DON'T YOU? HURRY UP AND LET'S GO!" Kaylen drearily sat up, rubbing his eyes. Outside his tent, Lt. Harkszkold was yelling at everybody else to wake up, except for Loban, Lt. Harskold's fearless and energetic first mate, who was already up and helping pack all of the supplies onto the old standard-issue hoverspeeder which will take them back to base.

 "Mumblemumblefreaksofnature" Kaylen grumbled tiredly as he rubbed the last inklings of sleep from his eyes. He arose and slowly got dressed in his tough metal-leather boots, white t-shirt, armored padding, old tan leather jacket (which he salvaged) leggings, titanium armor plates (for chest and legs) gloves, gas mask, lucid extra-strength goggles, utility belt, and a protective headpiece. It was a lot, but it's very practical for salvagers in the wastelands. It's not meant to be lascivious, salvagers aren't exactly luxury-oriented. The suit protects him from everything from turbulences to dust storms to most creatures to bits of glass and other sharp and pointy objects one may encounter while salvaging.

   Kaylen, sighing, started to load up his boxes to be put on the hoverspeeder. He put in his sleeping bag, salvaging rod, shovel, lamp, unused rations, and the bits of wood, coal, and other parts and materials that he salvaged. He had salvaged a fair amount of objects, about a normal round's worth. This should be worth about 50 credits back at the bunker. He wasn't as lucky as Collin, though. Collin had found an ancient "purse" that still had its contents, including some pre-war money. That could bring him, depending on the value, 100+ credits.

       Kaylin sighed as he loaded, with the help of Loban, his boxes into the hoverspeeder. Then he dismantled his tent and packed it too. After loading it, he went to help Jake take down his tent. This was his first salvaging job, so he needed a little help.

       A few minutes later, everyone had packed and was ready to go. Lt. Harkszkold tagged the location, so the bunker will know it has been reached.

     "Everyone into the Hoverspeeder!!!" he shouted once he finished. For Lt. Harkskold, shouting and talking were the same thing, and the word"whisper" wasn't in his vocabulary. Everyone crowded into dusty and slightly cramped passenger section of the hoverspeeder. Its interior was tan and dusty, with several walkie-talkies dangling from the side. The air ws safe to breathe however, so we could see take off our protective helmets and see everyone's face again.

     I looked around at all those gathered. Collin, Lt. Harkszkold, Jake, and Loban, with Pedro in the cab up front.

     "Everyone ready?" asked Pedro, the navigator.

      "YES!!" we all cried in unison, eager to get back home. Pedro started up the hoverspeeder, and we rose into the air, making a small divot in the ground. Then we took off towards home.

            I turned to my left where an enthusiastic Collin was clutching his prize.

       "Congratulations, Collin!" I said heartily. The mood began to lift from a sodden glaze to a grateful relief and everyone started congratulating everyone else on a good salvage, that nothing bad happened; Collin got the most congrats on his big find. "Don't get your hopes up too high, we're not there yet," Lt. Harkszkold said warily, fixing a bayonet on his laser-rifle.

        "He always reverts to caution", I whispered to Jake, who was sitting next to me on the right. "I think he's a little too apprehensive!"

          I looked out of the cupola on the top, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. "See, there's nothing unusual out there," I said, sitting back down. "You can never be too careful." Lt. Harkszkold cautioned, polishing his laser-rifle. "You've been polishing that awhile", I said with slight discomfiture. "A man needs to have a good weapon," Lt. Harkszold replied. "Yeah, a  paranoid coward with a slight paunch," Jake whispered to me.

           Suddenly I saw Jake being lifted out of his seat by a hairy, massive, battle-hardened hand. "You think I'm weak?" Lt. Harkszkold questioned in Jake's face. He didn't give Jake any time to answer, instead continuing to lament upon poor Jake, "I could flog you with my index finger while pinning you with my thumb! I could hit you so hard I'd make you regurgitate everything you've ever eaten in your life!! So call me what you just called me again, weakling!!"

         Jake, still in Lt. Harkszkold's grip, was silent. "I thought so, weakling!" Harkszkold spat, then let Jake drop to the ground. We were all silent for a couple of minutes after that.

         I hoped it would stay that way and not only be a respite between one conflict and another. Jake, having been defaced by Lt. Harkszkold, looked enigmatic. Enmity was in the air. I decided to read a history book to pass the time. 

"A long time ago, there were once ginormous cities, with buildings stretching up to the stars above and people bustling about its busy streets," he read.

  "But that was before the great war. Great and powerful weapons of mass destruction were unleashed upon all of the cities of the world, killing most of the population. Armies swept across plains and forest, destroying everything in their past. Until one nation conquered the others and annihilated them completely.

   "In the aftermath, the leaders of this nation decided to form a directorate that would govern the shattered the remains of the Earth. They banned all weapons and formed a sheltered commune of "bunkers" that would shield them from the devastation and the harmful radiation outside. So they constructed 31 bunkers for the survivors of the great war, and they have lived in peace for the past 103 years under the affluent Directorate's wise leadership. After 56 years, however, the Directorate decided that it could be safe for the bunkers to send parties to try and salvage usable materials from the wreckage of the devastated cities."

  "Hey, we've arrived!" Collin said to Kaylen, awakening him from his reading.

           Our meager hoverspeeder looked bland and mundane compared to the size and appearance of Bunker 31, a sleek metal compound nestled in the side of a rocky mountain. The steel alloy dome glistened in the light of the giant sun, almost blinding you if you weren't careful. The reinforced metal was many yards thick, protecting the bunker from the outside. A few gun ports were dotted along the sides.  I could make out Pedro's profile in the very front of the hoverspeeder radioing the bunker for permission to enter.

          Pedro looked a little piqued when he was told he was going to have to wait for another ship to land first. We could make out the ship, a large transport class-22, approaching the docking bay. "Must be from another bunker," Collin mused.

        None of us had ever been to another bunker. "Which one?" I asked. "See the "12" on the wings?" Lt. Harkszkold pointed out. "That means it's from Bunker 12. That's a ways away from here." "Do you know who's on it?" Collin asked. "Probably someone important" he replied.

      "Hey, guys, we have the liberty to land at docking bay 3,"Pedro said. It was on the other side of the bunker, but we reached it in good time. We went in for the landing....