The Living Dark

The Living Dark: Prologue

The Living Dark: Prologue

   Forty miles west of Pueblo, Colorado. In the chilly pre-dawn hours, the ground begins to shake. The people of Pueblo sleep blissfully unaware of the events outside their picturesque town. That there are some humans awake and working at this ungodly hour. They know the source of the rumble from deep within the limestone valley. The Earth's vibrations are not a natural earthquake. Two massive steel blast-proof doors at the bottom of an enormous sloped ramp roll close. Simultaneously overhead, a third mammoth door closes with a loud "boom." The primary purpose of the last blast-proof door is to seal the cavernous underground bunker tight. And its secondary objective is to camouflage the existence of the base from prying eyes. On the ground, overhead, and those orbiting high above the Earth. The last colossal steel door's surface is a covering of native plant life and landscaping. This human-made illusion meant to give any wandering eyes the illusion that there is no door or base. Only a vast open mountainous plain. Few residents of Pueblo venture this far out and those that do. View the seventy-five square mile fenced-in area. As proof of wasteful big government spending and they are unaware. That under their feet is one of the largest military complexes in the United States. Because the whole of the base sits buried more than a mile underground. However, they are not alone. This base is just one of five such garrisons strategically placed across the continental United States.

   "This is Major Donna Castleberry. Operation Bullfrog Great Plains is now in effect." A stern female echoes throughout the base's intercom system. She addresses the bunker's twelve hundred person Regiment of military personnel. Along with the sixty-plus scientist embedded with them on this tour. "Stand by for a message from Brigadier General O'Malley." Major Castleberry steps back from the console. In the base's command and control center. She allows the base's commanding officer to take a seat at the console. "Thank you, Major Castleberry," General O'Malley says. He snaps off a quick salute with on weathered hand. He acknowledged his second in command. A disciplined woman over a foot taller than him. With a neat black ponytail and the most flawless brown skin. He has ever had the privilege to behold in his life. "Maybe not twenty years ago. Then she'd have me beat by about ten inches tops." He dwells on that last thought. He was reflecting on a lifelong commitment to the Army and realizing the toll forty years in service to his country. Along with the Stars on his shoulder. Gone is the jet black hair that was buzzed off his head the day he enlisted. The only hair on his head now is his pure white eyebrows. "Sir" Castleberry barks, returning the salute and falling in behind the General's chair. "Good morning..." He begins before a squawk of static. Threatens to deafen everyone in the base. Major Castleberry whips her head to the side before settling her icy death stare. On the young corpsman working the console. The young man of maybe twenty sheepishly backs away. He blushes bright red from his shirt collar up to his chin. His realization that his proximity and headset had caused the static. The General gives Castleberry a casual fatherly nod of approval. Then he continues. "Sorry folks," The old war vet chuckles. "We are all locked up tight in our garrison. As you all know, our mission remains the same." A brief pause to clear his throat. "We are here to ensure our Continuity of Government. Should a catastrophic communications blackout occur." From his uniform pocket. O' Malley produces a small white laminated card. "We here in the Great Plains Garrison. Are joined by our fellow soldiers in the Southern Bullfrog Garrison outside of Shreveport Lousiana. And those in the Appalachian Garrison outside of Roanakoe Virginia." He finishes placing the card back in his pocket. "At this time, only three of the five Bullfrog Units have been called up. This mission has a secondary objective as well." 

    He continues casting a withering glance over his shoulders, behind Major Castleberry. O'Malley sees the proverbial thorn in his side. "We have with us scientists from a multi-faceted operation. To study and help us better understand tomorrow's Coronal Mass Ejection event." A celestial phenomenon during which there are great upheavals within the Sun's corona sphere. The Sun casts of gigantic flares and eruptions of solar material. Across the solar system bombarding all the planets as it drives the solar wind. "The Joint scientific taskforce is lead by Doctor Alberta Redstone." General O'Malley smiles ruefully. At the hefty woman in the pristine white lab coat." She stands with her hands on her ample hips. Regarding him like a suburbanite woman demanding to speak to "the manager." At your local grocery store. "So please afford them.." He turns back to the console. "All the courtesy we would any guest embedded with us on a mission. The prediction says tomorrow's Event will be one of if not the largest CMEs. In recorded human history by our records. But alas, we here have a mission to complete. On the off chance, this Event in any way hampers or disables the communications. Within our chain of command, thus crippling our ability to protect and defend the citizens of the United States." He finishes leaning back from the microphone on the console. The way a seasoned radio Dic Jockey would. "We, as all of the Bullfrog Units, are shielded underground. From the effects of the CME and will be prepared to render aid if need be, and with that said, please have a great day, folks."

    With that cue, the mic snaps off. And General O'Malley begins to rise from his chair. He's keenly aware that his battle-worn joints. May just be creaking louder than the chair. From which he now rises steadily. But he doesn't let the pain or discomfort show. To the soldiers under his command. General O'Malley is the Rock of Gibraltar sturdy, old and unbreakable. All of which is the key to maintaining the discipline of those thousands of soldiers under him. "Patrick .." A female voice from behind him barks. O'Malley simply holds a hand aloft as he rises. Major Donna Castleberry pivots around impeding Dr. Redstone's progress. "Dr. Redstone." She snaps. Her tone is even and authoritative. "You will address the General by his rank ma'am. As this is a military installation and we will maintain disciple at all times." The two women come face to face almost nose to nose. Dr. Redstone huffs like a rhino preparing to charge. If Major Castleberry has any concerns about such a course of action, her body stance and facial expression don't show it. General O' Malley has seen what The Major can do in combat. He knows the woman could put down the good doctor rather quickly. If that was her chosen course of action. "General" Alberta spits. "Call off your guard dog." The General turns to face the women. He realizes for the first time that the doctor is almost the same hight as the Major. Both women stand over six feet tall. One with the lean, muscularly toned body of a soldier. The other with the ample body and furrowed brow of a life long academic. "Doctor, I will do no such thing." He informs her. "I intend to retire to my quarters to rest up as we have a busy day tomorrow. And might I suggest you and your team do the same." He says the last part with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Major see to it that I am not disturbed." He orders as he exits the room. "Sir, yes sir," Castleberry responds through a smirk. Her eyes locked on the doctor."

Once the General has departed from the room, leaving Major Castleberry. The sole and ranking officer in the command center. Doctor Redstone exits the room without another word. The only sound is her shoes squeaking on the commercial carpet. It sounds almost as if her scuffed black shoes are begging for an end to their misery. She moves to the wall-sized console embedded in the wall. "Corporal Jones," she snaps at the young man standing in the corner. "Ma'am, yes ma'am," comes his reply as if he is an automaton built to serve. He doesn't wait for further instructions. The gangly young Corporal slides back into his chair. "Corporal" She leans over his chair. "I want a full scan on all functions of our perimeter defense. If it moves, I want to know about it," she finishes. Jones' fingers move across the keyboard, switches, and monitors controls that decorate the console. He operates the high tech piece of equipment with confidence. His interactions with tech are the exact opposite of how Jones interacts with humans. And it doesn't help the fact that he has a crush on the Major. For the Corporal having a crush on his Commanding Officer. That is at least fifteen years his senior and could kill him in under a minute. It is as awkward as it sounds. On the console, however, the young soldier is the expert. "Ma'am..." he begins after several rapid-fire minuets. The perimeter gate is armed, and all sensors are functioning. All anti-personnel and anti-tank landmines are armed and showing active. All motion sensors, both above and below ground, are working correctly as well. Lastly, all remote weapon placements are online." Major Castleberry standup crossing her arms across her chest, knowing full well that they are secure. Not even a full armored regiment would survive the onslaught that it would take. To get to the bunker's well hidden front door lest more attempt to breach it. "Jones, I believe I also asked if anything was moving?" Jones can feel her gaze searing the flesh on the back of her neck. "Ma'am," he all but shouts. "There are four hundred thirty, two rabbits, seventy-four foxes ..." Major Castleberry's inner hard-ass smiles gleefully. "Corporal," she cuts the soldier off briskly. "I was just testing you. Now breathe, and that is an order." Jones responds, "Ma'am, yes, ma'am," swallowing hard. "Ma'am, is there anything else?" "No, Corporal Jones, you are dismissed." They exit the room the Major in the front as the lights click off.