Post by howlingskinwalker on Jun 21, 2018 21:18:47 GMT
Outside, the first of the bombs fell. From the skies, they fell in screaming red lines, plummeting from all across Europe. Missiles launched from bases scattered through Russia and the east sailed on their curving trajectories, soaring up into the outer atmosphere where they shot downwards, blasting towards the same earth that had launched them. In the cites where the two sides met, the gunfire and explosions fell silent as those immense projectiles dropped from the clouded sky and landed amid the cites and battlegrounds that ravaged the continent. Explosions mushroomed across the sky, huge plumes of dust and matter as the atom was split, thousands of times over. Aircraft were torn from the air, as if by some immense fist, while shockwaves rippled across the lands, tearing entire buildings from their foundations and spilling hundreds of tonnes of radioactive isotopes into the air.
Then, even as the nuclear warheads roasted and charred the surface of Europe, isolated commanders brought their last resorts into play, before they too were eradicated. Bombers made the final, lonely trek across the irradiated, bleak landscape. Their payloads, experimental in their nature, were dropped, to plummet down, down through the dust and ash, onto those targets that fate had befallen.
Blue lit up the darkened skies, as energy blasts of immense proportions rocked the earth. The explosions didn’t simply destroy cites and change the environment, but shaped the landscape itself, moulding it with immense craters, transforming the very shape of the continent itself.
The walls shook as alarms blared, fighting against the scrum of trampling boots and yelling voices. Around him Randy felt bodies jostling and rushing as a swarm of uniformed figures rushed down the stairway. The collie grunted, feeling himself being carried along with the tide as he was swept down, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the facility. Everything was concrete and steel, looking grey and utilitarian to the boot. He grunting, feeling an elbow ramming into his gut and shot a terrified air force mechanic an irritated look. It was all a cover really. He was a shit scared as the rest of them.
Further they went, the stairs seeming to go on forever, without change. Emergency lights flashed as more rumbles echoed from overhead. The parajumper let his mind drift to what was happening, how he’d seen the first few trails of nukes from the hangar bays, before grabbing his rifle and sprinting towards the bunker as fast as possible. Was the base still there? Or had they been hit yet? Another rumble hit, though this one seemed much closer, shaking dust onto those rushing for safety. The airman clutched his rifle tighter and wished the throng wasn’t so tightly packed that he couldn’t take off his bag.
Eventually, the stairs stopped, and they emerged into a large hall, the size of an aircraft hanger though with a much lower ceiling. Quickly, it began to fill with uniformed bodies as those coming in from outside reached the bottom of the stairs. There was an air of stunned silence amongst them all, as the reality of the situation set in. Randy looked them over, seeing a whole mix of nationalities and services. So many uniforms pushed in together, alongside one or two civilians. He spied an eagle standing apart from the others, wearing the tan uniform of the Canadian Army. Quickly, he pushed his way over to him, before asking. “Benji? You know what’s going on?”
The eagle turned to face him and scoffed. “Not a single clue. But as far as I know, the world’s fucked”
“Well….we’re still alive aren’t we?”
“We’re just one little base in the middle of nowhere” Benji shrugged in reply, his fingers trembling as he held them against his sides. “We did it man, we actually managed to fuck up the entire world with those fucking nukes of ours” the avian glanced around, looking to kick something to release his pent up anger, but finding only more terrified personnel.
“Hold on man” Randy reassured him, managing to place a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “We’re still here, aren’t we? We’re down here, and wasn’t this place built to withstand all this apocalypse shit?”
“Yeah” the Eagle wiped his eyes, uncharacteristically for his usual stoic demeanour. “But you don’t get it do you? Everything…home, Canada….America….it’s all gone man. There’s no going back now. Nothing to go back to. It’s the end”
The collie shook his head, before a loud yell for silence broke the air. All heads turned, to see a contingent of officers emerging from a side door, guarded by a unit of armed marines. Through the forest of heads, Randy could make out some familiar faces. Some of the commanding air force staff, alongside a mixed group of other military officials. He recognised Colonel Clifton, a Lynx who was one of the station commanders, alongside a few others. At the back, he managed to catch sight of a British Officer he was friendly with, a Lion wearing dark green beret with a thoroughly nervous expression by the name of Locke.
“Now” yelled Clifton, stepping to the front of the group. “This is a worst case scenario, but we all need to remain as professionals. Remember, you are all soldiers. So remember what oaths you took, and stay calm. We don’t want this going out of hand” he scanned the room, every solider present being deathly silent. “Now, as you now know, the ESB and NASC have launched a series of tactical nuclear strikes, both across Europe and America. Other nation states have seemed to have joined in, and an hour ago, the use of Aether weaponry was authorized” he swallowed “As far as we know, Frankfurt has been hit with a nuclear weapon. Berlin, has simply gone, to what little information we have” he paused, before continuing “Generals Longford and Meyer were inbound by helicopter during the exchange. As far as we know, they are all KIA, leaving me as the highest ranking officer present in this bunker”
A marine at the back called out, his voice angry and defiant. “What are our orders? Surely we got order’s from Washington?”
“Washington? Private, Washington isn't even on the fucking map anymore according to Beale's tracking. And we lost communication with Beale a minute later." Snapped the Lynx, narrowing his eyes. “As far as we know, the United States command structure is all but void, alongside most other NASC nations. We managed to get some radio link with Spyglass, but it is intermittent. As far as we know, London’s gone unscathed, but we’re not expecting any help from them. Britain is taking one out of this” he nodded behind “What’s more” continued Clifton “The weapons used has had a pronounced effect upon our comms and power grids”
There was a deafening silence across the room, as the full weight hit those assembled. Randy shook his head. Home, his family, his little outhouse in California, all turned to ash. His hands balled into fists. Everything was gone now. His whole life had been planned out. Leave the army, take that sweet free collage that they offered and find himself a nice little school to settle down in. Teach kid’s history, about everything he loved about the past, maybe find some sweet girl and get hitched. All that was void. There wasn’t a home to go to. Nor a collage to attend. He felt sick, he felt like swaying on his feet. The collie let his M84 hang from it’s strap, before bringing his hands to his temples. His parents…where were they? Were they alive? Were they safe? His mind was racing, trying to figure out whether their house was enough to withstand such a blast.
“I know that you’re all thinking about your families” continued Clifton. “And we don’t blame you. We all have someone out there. But now, you have to focus on what’s going on here and now. Stay alive for them”
A few quiet sobs echoed through the crowd, while many held masks of anger upon their faces. The soldiers guarding Clifton and his fellow officer’s shifted nervously.
“You are all soldiers. Remember that. You all took oaths, and you need to respect the chain of the command” the lynx reminded them all.
“So what are we supposed to do?” yelled another voice.
“As far as we know, we bunker down and hold out. The radiation will linger on the surface. Here, the forces of NASC will remain. This bunker was made to survive this sort of event, to be our launch point from which we may conquer Europe once again”
There was a small uproar, voices calling out in anger and defiance.
“What? We just stay here?”
“Sit this out? What about the ESB bastards!”
“How can we live in this place! We should be out there!”
“Fuckers murdered our families!”
“Calm down!” yelled an alligator to Clifton’s right, his voice booming across the rest of the crowd. “Calm down and let the Colonel speak”
The uproar did so, if only gradually at first. Faces were enraged and angry, or tear struck and emotional. Many had hands upon their weapons, making Randy clutch his own rifle closer. If things turned into a shooting match, it could get ugly.
“What we will do” continued the Colonel, wiping his forehead from exertion. “Is we plan. We make ready. We train and prepare ourselves for what’s ahead. This is what is left of our military, as far as we know. All of you will play a part. Be it in a year, or ten. We will run this as it was meant to be run, as an ark, though you will all continue to train in whatever skills you have mastered, to ensure our readiness when the time to leave comes” the other officers nodded along in appreciation, fumbling nervously. Nobody was prepared for this. They were simply making the best they could do.
Clifton wiped his forehead again and stepped back, allowing the burly alligator to take his place on the centre stage. He opened his long, reptilian jaws and began to speak in a firm, loud tone.
“From here, you’ll be assigned quarters. Routine will be established. Training and guarding of key installations will follow. Ladies and Gentlemen, I need not remind you that you are now in a Ark scenario. Any attempt at tampering or interfering with the infrastructure here could be catastrophic for the entire program. Therefore, the penalties for doing so will be severe. I also need not remind you that the chain of command is still in effect. Breaches of such and insubordination will be treated as most severe. Until then, remain here until you are assigned” the reptile stepped backwards and saluted the assembled throng, before ending with a “God bless us all”
The salute was returned, for the most part, before the officers turned about and headed through a pair of heavily reinforced steel doors. Most of their guards remained, holding position at the doors that lead deeper into the facility, rifles and submachineguns at the ready.
From the crowd, a new voice spoke up. A massive, rough figure strode out from amid the crowd. It was a huge thig, more than twelve feet tall, though stooped over to reach nine feet in height. The clothing the huge canine alien wore were a mix of combats and strange tribal decorations. It was one of the huge aliens, who’d inhabited Canada
"I know those of you who are mourning the loss of your family, especially those of you who signed up to protect them, can't take more bad news." The Ka'Rlfn said in its rough, growling voice. "But I unfortunately have some. I'm sure everyone here knows what these are, no?" He asked, holding aloft a wafer thin chip the best he could while hunched over on all fours.
"Then again, I suppose we do have some marines."
"This, is a Circuit Board. The lifeblood of practically every little electronic thing created after 1970. And it is fried beyond use because of a certain effect in the aftermath of a Nuclear blast known as an EMP. Every Electronic Optic, Suit of Powered armour, Gauss Rifle, PDA, anything with a computer chip in it that is not shielded is now as good as garbage"
More cries of alarm and anguished echoed about the room, as the situation deteriorated even further.
“The electronic systems of the bunker were shielded however” continued the alien “To some degree, we should be able to have water, lights and heat. Though several systems will be damaged. It’ll take time to see what the EMPs have done” With that bombshell, he turned about and headed over to the tiny group of fellow Canadians and Ka’Rlfn, huddled about to comfort one another.
“Well” sighed Randy, rubbing his eyes and letting out a pained exhale. “That’s the state we’re in at the moment. Martial law for the next couple of years” he turned to Benji and patted his friend on the shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
“Not too good man” Benji muttered, rubbing his temples “Shit’s happening too fast” he took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. “I’m not exactly ready for a life in a fucking concrete box”
“Its okay” the canine reassured him, rubbing his friend across his back. “Just take it slow man….deep breaths and all that” movement behind him drew his eye, and Randy turned around to the three figures that had approached him.
A shaven headed human stood behind him, a machine gun slung over his back. He was tall, muscular and heavily weathered, his face blasted and hardened by the wind. Judging by his dark green camouflage, and the Slavic accent by which he spoke, he was a man of the Polish Armed forces. Or what was left of it.
“Evening” he grunted, tipping his head at his two casual drinking buddies. “Bit of an….interesting development, it is not?”
“You seem pretty okay with the nuclear apocalypse, Tobias” muttered Randy “Does the world often collapse all around you?”
The human snorted, shaking his head as a grim smile crossed his face. “It matters not to me. The ESB scum already have my country” he shrugged, shaking his head. “If my family and friends were not dead already, then I would be surprised. So yes. It does often happen to me”
“Ah” Randy paused, looking down at his feet. “Well…that makes us all fucked then” he patted Benji across the shoulder.
“Cheer up Mój przyjaciel” Tobias told the eagle “You get over it in the end. Then it’s just the numbness”
“Usually I find your black humour funny” grunted Benji, giving the pole the evil eye. “But not is Really, not the fucking time for it”
“I merely try and help” he offered. “Try brighten shit up”
“Well” snapped the Canadian “Forgive me if I’m not fucking thrilled for potentially everyone I’ve ever know being fucking turned to ash, while I’m looking at living the rest of my life in an underground concrete box you bastard”
“Well, seeing as we’re about to start killing each other already, who are you two?” Randy asked, turning about and directing the question at the two who had been accompanying Tobias, two females who were wearing flight overalls.
The one on the right, a fox, spoke up, her voice tinged with a Germanic accent. “My name is Rebecca. Flight Sergeant Rebecca Lang. Luftwaffe” she cocked her head at the Jackal to her side. “And this is Flight Sergeant Keller. And you are?”
“Airman Randy Paulson” he declared proudly, sticking out his chest to the two pilot’s amusement. “United States Airforce. Parajumpers”
“Once of those search and rescue drani” added Tobias from the side.
“Shut up” scoffed Randy, shaking his ears defensively “We’re not just search and rescue. We do other shit too” he turned back to the other two woman “So you’re both pilots?”
“That’s right” nodded Keller, her voice low and forlorn. “Or at least we used to, before our planes got fried up there. No much call for flying inside a bunker”
“Don’t you worry” the collie reassured them “I’m sure they’ll get you a job in here, maybe-“
“Cooking, cleaning?” offered Tobias.
“No” muttered Randy, giving him the evil eye. “I was going to say doing radio operators, or helping repair shit. Way to be a stereotype, asshole”
“Meh” he shrugged “I only say what come to mind. Too busy fighting the ESB to attend your political correctness shit”
“Whatever” Randy sighed, rolling his eyes before turning back to the two. “You girls hanging on okay in there?”
“As much as we can do, given the circumstances” Lang sighed, patting her fellow pilot across the shoulders. “I think we’ll need some time for it all to sink in” Keller nodded in agreement, wiping at her eyes with a balled up napkin. Soft crying echoed throughout the rest of the room, adding to the gloom and crushing atmosphere.
“Well” offered the Collie. “It doesn’t sound much, but we’re all in the same boat here. Talk to someone. You need to live for your loved ones memory” he finished it with a meaningful glance at Benji. “That means you too Hancock. If I’m left alone in this fucking place with just Tobias and Colonel Clifton, I will go bat-shit insane”
“I’ll try” muttered the eagle begrudgingly, “I’d go mad in that situation too”
“All right people” yelled one of the armed marines that had seemingly already settled into the position of guards. “We’re going to start to issue quarters now. Inside you’ll find bedding, this will require weekly washing at the facilities provided on the sub levels, a process you’ll be introduced to shortly. Secondly, all ammunition is to be handed in. Weapons may be held in private quarters, while ordnance will be issued for guard duty, but none is to be held privately in any regard”
Tobias and Randy exchanged glances. “So we’re all as good as defenceless then” the collie whispered to his companion, clutching onto his rifle tighter. “I’ve never been a fan of that shit”
“Just do it” Tobias grunted back “I don’t want you starting a fight when we’re barely an hour into this. It has been a shit day already”
“Fuck all this shit” the canine growled “Next thing you’ll know we’ll be divided up into slave classes”
The crowd slowly started to shuffle forwards, dumbly heading towards the doorways that would lead to their new lives. Those who had brought weapons, ejecting their magazines and handed them into bags, alongside everything in their webbing. Randy watched them do, shuffling past the doors to lead down the winding, concrete corridors to their new, cramped places of residence. He looked down at his flak jacket, stuffed with magazines and grenades, then at his M84. Fucking hell. The things I do for this goddam airforce. Not that we have an airforce any more.
“Well, I’ll see you around” he told Benji and Tobias, patting both of them on the shoulder. “If you need someone to talk to….well….try and find me. I’m not letting you two go rogue on me” he turned to the two pilots in turn and nodded his head at them. “Same goes for you ladies. Don’t want it to happen to you two”
“Danke” nodded Lang, smiling as much as she could, given the circumstances.
Shouldering his weapon, Randy headed over to join the line. He sighed as he unloaded each of his magazines from his webbing pockets and handed them over to the grim looking goat who was collecting them in. His family heirloom, a large revolver went next, emptying it out and watching all the glinting cases fall into the abyss of the bag. Without the weight of his loaded magazines and ammunition, he felt naked and defenceless. Same went with his grenades, until he stood there, slipping his revolver back into its holster and slinging his rifle over it’s back.
“Move on” grunted the goat, thumbing through the doorway. “You’ll get designations from there”
“Sure” Randy sighed, moving on through into another open hallway, that branched off into several corridors. Off to one side, he could see a reinforced set of steel doors labelled “Command Centre”, outside which a pair of German troopers had set up an GPMG nest. It seemed like Clifton and the rest of the high command was making sure that they were well covered.
Being lead through the bunker, allowed Randy a glimpse at the facility’s scale. It truly seemed huge, long lines of concrete corridors, heavily reinforced under thousands of tonnes of concrete and stone. He knew that the airbase was built upon a bunker, but imagined it to be some small facility, rather than an expansive underground community in waiting. In his mind’s eye now, he could see underground warehouses of food and provisions. How long they would be down here, he imagined that everything, to a degree, would be provided for.
The solider that lead his group, directed Randy to a steel door and took his name and service number down upon a register, before bidding him good luck and heading on to assign more traumatized soldiers into their new places of residence.
Inside, Randy stepped to find the small, concrete box that would now be his life for the foreseeable future. Grey, plain walls filled his vision, complete with a single metal locker and a standard issue metal bedframe, topped by a plastic mattress and a folded grey blanket.
“Fucking hell” he sighed, unclipping his rifle and setting it down upon the protrusion of concrete that functioned as a sort of desk. From a back pocket, he removed a single magazine of rifle ammunition, fully bombed up. After checking it over, he reached behind the locker and stashed the illicit ammo in the small space it created. His new superiors would be dammed if they were going to have him going completely empty handed. He ran through the morning, as he unclipped his webbing.
He’d arisen, run around the landing strips before tucking into a hot breakfast. Before getting ready for his day of readiness with his fellow PJs, he’d exchanged a brief message series with his parents. Reassuring them that he was safe and everything was okay. His dad was getting ready to open up his bicycle repair store for the day. His mama heading out grab groceries for their lunch. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, running in the rising sun, looking up at the open air….talking to his mama and dad. Now, they were gone. Home, back in Salinas, was gone.
He was alone now. Now he could mourn. He took off his bag, the one he had grabbed in a mad panic as he rushed to the bunker. His eyes grew wet as he opened it up and started to rifle through it. A book he’d been reading on the Revolutionary War. Another on the Civil War and a third on Gettysburg. All that he had left of his collection. Gently, he placed them atop his new desk, mournfully stroking the spines. All that he had left of a once promising future.
What followed was a few toiletries, a few writing pads and pens and his weapon’s cleaning kit. All cast aside when he found a printout of a photo. One he’d made months ago, before his deployment. It showed him, arm in arm with two older collies. His mother and father. Gently, he ran his fingers over it, sitting upon his bed. He missed them already. He missed them so much.
More wetness dripped from eyes when he felt something against his back. Grunting, he felt about in his pocket, to find a small, but thick book pressing against him. He wiped at his eyes before reaching inside to feel it, only to touch wetness. Something must have leaked. He sniffed at his fingers. Gun oil. Out he eased the book, the latter half of which turned black by the thick liquid and turned to check the front cover.
“The Constitution of the United States of America and the Declaration of Independence: Pocket Edition”
The history document for the founding of a country that no longer existed. The irony made him want to weep bitterly. Quickly, he flipped through the pages, until he reached the boundary of those that hadn’t been tarnished with the leaking oil. 13 of them and the declaration of Independence. Most of history washed away in an instant. The metaphor was not lost upon him.
He wanted to yell, to scream. To last out and bash at the walls of this suffocating room or load that secret clip of ammunition and spray it about on fully automatic.
But these things he couldn’t do. He simply placed the soiled book upon the floor and curled upon the plastic mattress. Left to his own thoughts and devices.
Then, even as the nuclear warheads roasted and charred the surface of Europe, isolated commanders brought their last resorts into play, before they too were eradicated. Bombers made the final, lonely trek across the irradiated, bleak landscape. Their payloads, experimental in their nature, were dropped, to plummet down, down through the dust and ash, onto those targets that fate had befallen.
Blue lit up the darkened skies, as energy blasts of immense proportions rocked the earth. The explosions didn’t simply destroy cites and change the environment, but shaped the landscape itself, moulding it with immense craters, transforming the very shape of the continent itself.
The walls shook as alarms blared, fighting against the scrum of trampling boots and yelling voices. Around him Randy felt bodies jostling and rushing as a swarm of uniformed figures rushed down the stairway. The collie grunted, feeling himself being carried along with the tide as he was swept down, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the facility. Everything was concrete and steel, looking grey and utilitarian to the boot. He grunting, feeling an elbow ramming into his gut and shot a terrified air force mechanic an irritated look. It was all a cover really. He was a shit scared as the rest of them.
Further they went, the stairs seeming to go on forever, without change. Emergency lights flashed as more rumbles echoed from overhead. The parajumper let his mind drift to what was happening, how he’d seen the first few trails of nukes from the hangar bays, before grabbing his rifle and sprinting towards the bunker as fast as possible. Was the base still there? Or had they been hit yet? Another rumble hit, though this one seemed much closer, shaking dust onto those rushing for safety. The airman clutched his rifle tighter and wished the throng wasn’t so tightly packed that he couldn’t take off his bag.
Eventually, the stairs stopped, and they emerged into a large hall, the size of an aircraft hanger though with a much lower ceiling. Quickly, it began to fill with uniformed bodies as those coming in from outside reached the bottom of the stairs. There was an air of stunned silence amongst them all, as the reality of the situation set in. Randy looked them over, seeing a whole mix of nationalities and services. So many uniforms pushed in together, alongside one or two civilians. He spied an eagle standing apart from the others, wearing the tan uniform of the Canadian Army. Quickly, he pushed his way over to him, before asking. “Benji? You know what’s going on?”
The eagle turned to face him and scoffed. “Not a single clue. But as far as I know, the world’s fucked”
“Well….we’re still alive aren’t we?”
“We’re just one little base in the middle of nowhere” Benji shrugged in reply, his fingers trembling as he held them against his sides. “We did it man, we actually managed to fuck up the entire world with those fucking nukes of ours” the avian glanced around, looking to kick something to release his pent up anger, but finding only more terrified personnel.
“Hold on man” Randy reassured him, managing to place a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “We’re still here, aren’t we? We’re down here, and wasn’t this place built to withstand all this apocalypse shit?”
“Yeah” the Eagle wiped his eyes, uncharacteristically for his usual stoic demeanour. “But you don’t get it do you? Everything…home, Canada….America….it’s all gone man. There’s no going back now. Nothing to go back to. It’s the end”
The collie shook his head, before a loud yell for silence broke the air. All heads turned, to see a contingent of officers emerging from a side door, guarded by a unit of armed marines. Through the forest of heads, Randy could make out some familiar faces. Some of the commanding air force staff, alongside a mixed group of other military officials. He recognised Colonel Clifton, a Lynx who was one of the station commanders, alongside a few others. At the back, he managed to catch sight of a British Officer he was friendly with, a Lion wearing dark green beret with a thoroughly nervous expression by the name of Locke.
“Now” yelled Clifton, stepping to the front of the group. “This is a worst case scenario, but we all need to remain as professionals. Remember, you are all soldiers. So remember what oaths you took, and stay calm. We don’t want this going out of hand” he scanned the room, every solider present being deathly silent. “Now, as you now know, the ESB and NASC have launched a series of tactical nuclear strikes, both across Europe and America. Other nation states have seemed to have joined in, and an hour ago, the use of Aether weaponry was authorized” he swallowed “As far as we know, Frankfurt has been hit with a nuclear weapon. Berlin, has simply gone, to what little information we have” he paused, before continuing “Generals Longford and Meyer were inbound by helicopter during the exchange. As far as we know, they are all KIA, leaving me as the highest ranking officer present in this bunker”
A marine at the back called out, his voice angry and defiant. “What are our orders? Surely we got order’s from Washington?”
“Washington? Private, Washington isn't even on the fucking map anymore according to Beale's tracking. And we lost communication with Beale a minute later." Snapped the Lynx, narrowing his eyes. “As far as we know, the United States command structure is all but void, alongside most other NASC nations. We managed to get some radio link with Spyglass, but it is intermittent. As far as we know, London’s gone unscathed, but we’re not expecting any help from them. Britain is taking one out of this” he nodded behind “What’s more” continued Clifton “The weapons used has had a pronounced effect upon our comms and power grids”
There was a deafening silence across the room, as the full weight hit those assembled. Randy shook his head. Home, his family, his little outhouse in California, all turned to ash. His hands balled into fists. Everything was gone now. His whole life had been planned out. Leave the army, take that sweet free collage that they offered and find himself a nice little school to settle down in. Teach kid’s history, about everything he loved about the past, maybe find some sweet girl and get hitched. All that was void. There wasn’t a home to go to. Nor a collage to attend. He felt sick, he felt like swaying on his feet. The collie let his M84 hang from it’s strap, before bringing his hands to his temples. His parents…where were they? Were they alive? Were they safe? His mind was racing, trying to figure out whether their house was enough to withstand such a blast.
“I know that you’re all thinking about your families” continued Clifton. “And we don’t blame you. We all have someone out there. But now, you have to focus on what’s going on here and now. Stay alive for them”
A few quiet sobs echoed through the crowd, while many held masks of anger upon their faces. The soldiers guarding Clifton and his fellow officer’s shifted nervously.
“You are all soldiers. Remember that. You all took oaths, and you need to respect the chain of the command” the lynx reminded them all.
“So what are we supposed to do?” yelled another voice.
“As far as we know, we bunker down and hold out. The radiation will linger on the surface. Here, the forces of NASC will remain. This bunker was made to survive this sort of event, to be our launch point from which we may conquer Europe once again”
There was a small uproar, voices calling out in anger and defiance.
“What? We just stay here?”
“Sit this out? What about the ESB bastards!”
“How can we live in this place! We should be out there!”
“Fuckers murdered our families!”
“Calm down!” yelled an alligator to Clifton’s right, his voice booming across the rest of the crowd. “Calm down and let the Colonel speak”
The uproar did so, if only gradually at first. Faces were enraged and angry, or tear struck and emotional. Many had hands upon their weapons, making Randy clutch his own rifle closer. If things turned into a shooting match, it could get ugly.
“What we will do” continued the Colonel, wiping his forehead from exertion. “Is we plan. We make ready. We train and prepare ourselves for what’s ahead. This is what is left of our military, as far as we know. All of you will play a part. Be it in a year, or ten. We will run this as it was meant to be run, as an ark, though you will all continue to train in whatever skills you have mastered, to ensure our readiness when the time to leave comes” the other officers nodded along in appreciation, fumbling nervously. Nobody was prepared for this. They were simply making the best they could do.
Clifton wiped his forehead again and stepped back, allowing the burly alligator to take his place on the centre stage. He opened his long, reptilian jaws and began to speak in a firm, loud tone.
“From here, you’ll be assigned quarters. Routine will be established. Training and guarding of key installations will follow. Ladies and Gentlemen, I need not remind you that you are now in a Ark scenario. Any attempt at tampering or interfering with the infrastructure here could be catastrophic for the entire program. Therefore, the penalties for doing so will be severe. I also need not remind you that the chain of command is still in effect. Breaches of such and insubordination will be treated as most severe. Until then, remain here until you are assigned” the reptile stepped backwards and saluted the assembled throng, before ending with a “God bless us all”
The salute was returned, for the most part, before the officers turned about and headed through a pair of heavily reinforced steel doors. Most of their guards remained, holding position at the doors that lead deeper into the facility, rifles and submachineguns at the ready.
From the crowd, a new voice spoke up. A massive, rough figure strode out from amid the crowd. It was a huge thig, more than twelve feet tall, though stooped over to reach nine feet in height. The clothing the huge canine alien wore were a mix of combats and strange tribal decorations. It was one of the huge aliens, who’d inhabited Canada
"I know those of you who are mourning the loss of your family, especially those of you who signed up to protect them, can't take more bad news." The Ka'Rlfn said in its rough, growling voice. "But I unfortunately have some. I'm sure everyone here knows what these are, no?" He asked, holding aloft a wafer thin chip the best he could while hunched over on all fours.
"Then again, I suppose we do have some marines."
"This, is a Circuit Board. The lifeblood of practically every little electronic thing created after 1970. And it is fried beyond use because of a certain effect in the aftermath of a Nuclear blast known as an EMP. Every Electronic Optic, Suit of Powered armour, Gauss Rifle, PDA, anything with a computer chip in it that is not shielded is now as good as garbage"
More cries of alarm and anguished echoed about the room, as the situation deteriorated even further.
“The electronic systems of the bunker were shielded however” continued the alien “To some degree, we should be able to have water, lights and heat. Though several systems will be damaged. It’ll take time to see what the EMPs have done” With that bombshell, he turned about and headed over to the tiny group of fellow Canadians and Ka’Rlfn, huddled about to comfort one another.
“Well” sighed Randy, rubbing his eyes and letting out a pained exhale. “That’s the state we’re in at the moment. Martial law for the next couple of years” he turned to Benji and patted his friend on the shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
“Not too good man” Benji muttered, rubbing his temples “Shit’s happening too fast” he took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. “I’m not exactly ready for a life in a fucking concrete box”
“Its okay” the canine reassured him, rubbing his friend across his back. “Just take it slow man….deep breaths and all that” movement behind him drew his eye, and Randy turned around to the three figures that had approached him.
A shaven headed human stood behind him, a machine gun slung over his back. He was tall, muscular and heavily weathered, his face blasted and hardened by the wind. Judging by his dark green camouflage, and the Slavic accent by which he spoke, he was a man of the Polish Armed forces. Or what was left of it.
“Evening” he grunted, tipping his head at his two casual drinking buddies. “Bit of an….interesting development, it is not?”
“You seem pretty okay with the nuclear apocalypse, Tobias” muttered Randy “Does the world often collapse all around you?”
The human snorted, shaking his head as a grim smile crossed his face. “It matters not to me. The ESB scum already have my country” he shrugged, shaking his head. “If my family and friends were not dead already, then I would be surprised. So yes. It does often happen to me”
“Ah” Randy paused, looking down at his feet. “Well…that makes us all fucked then” he patted Benji across the shoulder.
“Cheer up Mój przyjaciel” Tobias told the eagle “You get over it in the end. Then it’s just the numbness”
“Usually I find your black humour funny” grunted Benji, giving the pole the evil eye. “But not is Really, not the fucking time for it”
“I merely try and help” he offered. “Try brighten shit up”
“Well” snapped the Canadian “Forgive me if I’m not fucking thrilled for potentially everyone I’ve ever know being fucking turned to ash, while I’m looking at living the rest of my life in an underground concrete box you bastard”
“Well, seeing as we’re about to start killing each other already, who are you two?” Randy asked, turning about and directing the question at the two who had been accompanying Tobias, two females who were wearing flight overalls.
The one on the right, a fox, spoke up, her voice tinged with a Germanic accent. “My name is Rebecca. Flight Sergeant Rebecca Lang. Luftwaffe” she cocked her head at the Jackal to her side. “And this is Flight Sergeant Keller. And you are?”
“Airman Randy Paulson” he declared proudly, sticking out his chest to the two pilot’s amusement. “United States Airforce. Parajumpers”
“Once of those search and rescue drani” added Tobias from the side.
“Shut up” scoffed Randy, shaking his ears defensively “We’re not just search and rescue. We do other shit too” he turned back to the other two woman “So you’re both pilots?”
“That’s right” nodded Keller, her voice low and forlorn. “Or at least we used to, before our planes got fried up there. No much call for flying inside a bunker”
“Don’t you worry” the collie reassured them “I’m sure they’ll get you a job in here, maybe-“
“Cooking, cleaning?” offered Tobias.
“No” muttered Randy, giving him the evil eye. “I was going to say doing radio operators, or helping repair shit. Way to be a stereotype, asshole”
“Meh” he shrugged “I only say what come to mind. Too busy fighting the ESB to attend your political correctness shit”
“Whatever” Randy sighed, rolling his eyes before turning back to the two. “You girls hanging on okay in there?”
“As much as we can do, given the circumstances” Lang sighed, patting her fellow pilot across the shoulders. “I think we’ll need some time for it all to sink in” Keller nodded in agreement, wiping at her eyes with a balled up napkin. Soft crying echoed throughout the rest of the room, adding to the gloom and crushing atmosphere.
“Well” offered the Collie. “It doesn’t sound much, but we’re all in the same boat here. Talk to someone. You need to live for your loved ones memory” he finished it with a meaningful glance at Benji. “That means you too Hancock. If I’m left alone in this fucking place with just Tobias and Colonel Clifton, I will go bat-shit insane”
“I’ll try” muttered the eagle begrudgingly, “I’d go mad in that situation too”
“All right people” yelled one of the armed marines that had seemingly already settled into the position of guards. “We’re going to start to issue quarters now. Inside you’ll find bedding, this will require weekly washing at the facilities provided on the sub levels, a process you’ll be introduced to shortly. Secondly, all ammunition is to be handed in. Weapons may be held in private quarters, while ordnance will be issued for guard duty, but none is to be held privately in any regard”
Tobias and Randy exchanged glances. “So we’re all as good as defenceless then” the collie whispered to his companion, clutching onto his rifle tighter. “I’ve never been a fan of that shit”
“Just do it” Tobias grunted back “I don’t want you starting a fight when we’re barely an hour into this. It has been a shit day already”
“Fuck all this shit” the canine growled “Next thing you’ll know we’ll be divided up into slave classes”
The crowd slowly started to shuffle forwards, dumbly heading towards the doorways that would lead to their new lives. Those who had brought weapons, ejecting their magazines and handed them into bags, alongside everything in their webbing. Randy watched them do, shuffling past the doors to lead down the winding, concrete corridors to their new, cramped places of residence. He looked down at his flak jacket, stuffed with magazines and grenades, then at his M84. Fucking hell. The things I do for this goddam airforce. Not that we have an airforce any more.
“Well, I’ll see you around” he told Benji and Tobias, patting both of them on the shoulder. “If you need someone to talk to….well….try and find me. I’m not letting you two go rogue on me” he turned to the two pilots in turn and nodded his head at them. “Same goes for you ladies. Don’t want it to happen to you two”
“Danke” nodded Lang, smiling as much as she could, given the circumstances.
Shouldering his weapon, Randy headed over to join the line. He sighed as he unloaded each of his magazines from his webbing pockets and handed them over to the grim looking goat who was collecting them in. His family heirloom, a large revolver went next, emptying it out and watching all the glinting cases fall into the abyss of the bag. Without the weight of his loaded magazines and ammunition, he felt naked and defenceless. Same went with his grenades, until he stood there, slipping his revolver back into its holster and slinging his rifle over it’s back.
“Move on” grunted the goat, thumbing through the doorway. “You’ll get designations from there”
“Sure” Randy sighed, moving on through into another open hallway, that branched off into several corridors. Off to one side, he could see a reinforced set of steel doors labelled “Command Centre”, outside which a pair of German troopers had set up an GPMG nest. It seemed like Clifton and the rest of the high command was making sure that they were well covered.
Being lead through the bunker, allowed Randy a glimpse at the facility’s scale. It truly seemed huge, long lines of concrete corridors, heavily reinforced under thousands of tonnes of concrete and stone. He knew that the airbase was built upon a bunker, but imagined it to be some small facility, rather than an expansive underground community in waiting. In his mind’s eye now, he could see underground warehouses of food and provisions. How long they would be down here, he imagined that everything, to a degree, would be provided for.
The solider that lead his group, directed Randy to a steel door and took his name and service number down upon a register, before bidding him good luck and heading on to assign more traumatized soldiers into their new places of residence.
Inside, Randy stepped to find the small, concrete box that would now be his life for the foreseeable future. Grey, plain walls filled his vision, complete with a single metal locker and a standard issue metal bedframe, topped by a plastic mattress and a folded grey blanket.
“Fucking hell” he sighed, unclipping his rifle and setting it down upon the protrusion of concrete that functioned as a sort of desk. From a back pocket, he removed a single magazine of rifle ammunition, fully bombed up. After checking it over, he reached behind the locker and stashed the illicit ammo in the small space it created. His new superiors would be dammed if they were going to have him going completely empty handed. He ran through the morning, as he unclipped his webbing.
He’d arisen, run around the landing strips before tucking into a hot breakfast. Before getting ready for his day of readiness with his fellow PJs, he’d exchanged a brief message series with his parents. Reassuring them that he was safe and everything was okay. His dad was getting ready to open up his bicycle repair store for the day. His mama heading out grab groceries for their lunch. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, running in the rising sun, looking up at the open air….talking to his mama and dad. Now, they were gone. Home, back in Salinas, was gone.
He was alone now. Now he could mourn. He took off his bag, the one he had grabbed in a mad panic as he rushed to the bunker. His eyes grew wet as he opened it up and started to rifle through it. A book he’d been reading on the Revolutionary War. Another on the Civil War and a third on Gettysburg. All that he had left of his collection. Gently, he placed them atop his new desk, mournfully stroking the spines. All that he had left of a once promising future.
What followed was a few toiletries, a few writing pads and pens and his weapon’s cleaning kit. All cast aside when he found a printout of a photo. One he’d made months ago, before his deployment. It showed him, arm in arm with two older collies. His mother and father. Gently, he ran his fingers over it, sitting upon his bed. He missed them already. He missed them so much.
More wetness dripped from eyes when he felt something against his back. Grunting, he felt about in his pocket, to find a small, but thick book pressing against him. He wiped at his eyes before reaching inside to feel it, only to touch wetness. Something must have leaked. He sniffed at his fingers. Gun oil. Out he eased the book, the latter half of which turned black by the thick liquid and turned to check the front cover.
“The Constitution of the United States of America and the Declaration of Independence: Pocket Edition”
The history document for the founding of a country that no longer existed. The irony made him want to weep bitterly. Quickly, he flipped through the pages, until he reached the boundary of those that hadn’t been tarnished with the leaking oil. 13 of them and the declaration of Independence. Most of history washed away in an instant. The metaphor was not lost upon him.
He wanted to yell, to scream. To last out and bash at the walls of this suffocating room or load that secret clip of ammunition and spray it about on fully automatic.
But these things he couldn’t do. He simply placed the soiled book upon the floor and curled upon the plastic mattress. Left to his own thoughts and devices.