Bunker Bird

27. Smooth

The reactor is the heart of the bunker.

Its beating is the same as the sun's.

The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 1, Verse 28

A flurry of images of me falling into the abyss was brushed away by a flapping noise.

I opened my eyes, trading the nightmare for black nothing.

The bats were stirring.

My eyes craved light.

How late was it? How long had we slept? We had left the cavern in the morning. It might be evening now, or night.

There was only one way to find out. We had to sneak down and take a peek.

I nudged Amy as I got up, loosening my cramped muscles.

With little hope, I pulled at one of the door's handles. It still wouldn't budge.

Amy groaned.

As I stepped to the edge of the platform and reached out for the rungs, I had a vision of them being gone, of us being trapped up here.

When my hand found the slimy metal, I sighed in relief.

"Amy, you awake?"

"Relax, boy. Gimme a second. I'm not a morning gal."

"It's not morning. I hope it's evening."

"Whatever it is, it sucks fer real and begs to get smacked across—"

A faint clang of metal stopped her. It echoed up from below.

Surprised, I listened into the shaft, but all I heard now were the restless bats. Maybe, one of them had crashed into the ladder, banging its stupid head and ringing a rung.

Then it came again, a faint and distinct jingle.

"What's that?" Amy's question was a whisper.

"Don't know."

We waited. The sound repeated itself now at almost regular intervals, gaining volume with each ring.

Was someone climbing the ladder? Wolfe and his men? Or Amy's people? Had they survived, after all?

Or the Engineers? Would they need the ladder at all? When I had asked the priest at school if the Engineers were humans, he had told me they are what they choose to be.

But Amy had said they're human. And there had been an image of a man in a white coat in that moving picture in the shrine.

The bats grew even more restless as the noise got nearer. I stood back from the edge, afraid one of them would crash into me.