Chapter Thirteen
Liis
Seventeen pairs of feet shuffled past the reinforced inner entrance of the bunker.
The first door we’d passed through on the surface required a keypad.
It looked like any other, heavy and secure, but not out of place.
Beyond it, a narrow set of stairs led down into a space lit by a single caged bulb, casting a harsh circle of light.
At the far end stood a massive steel blast door, nearly nine feet tall and four feet wide, its segmented surface built to seal tight, operated by a thick wheel lock reinforced with internal hydraulics.
The Maddox brothers, their wives, and children stepped in, some of the younger ones small enough to be carried. With Staff Sergeant Ibarra, Thomas, Olive, and me, we crowded together at first, forced into careful steps to avoid bumping into one another. Once inside, the bunker opened up around us.
Naomi's description hadn't done it justice. Beyond the entrance lay an underground facility large enough to hold transport vehicles, living quarters, a medical bay, and even weapons caches, hidden beneath the AbrP's compound in a way that made me doubt even the U.S. government knew it existed.
I stood just inside the entrance, watching my family come through before Ibarra sealed the door behind us.
Trenton and Camille came in last, Camille balancing Oliver against her shoulder, one hand steady at the back of his head while he slept.
Trenton’s gaze swept the bunker in one pass, almost as if he expected whatever had prompted our quick relocation to be waiting for us inside.
The door closed behind us with a low, final sound that didn’t echo so much as settle into place.
The ominous feeling was subtle but unmistakable.
No one said anything, but the collective thought seemed to move through our group that we hadn’t just moved to safety, we were cut off from the world above.
Reinforced concrete gave way to structure.
Rows of transports parked in clean lines, the medical bay sectioned off in glass, and the living quarters extending down multiple corridors.
The lighting was soft and even, designed to keep those inside from devolving into madness, but it couldn’t disguise the bunker’s purpose.
I’d seen this movie before. Marcel’s secret pocket of survival seemed to come straight out of a film about governments preparing for the end of the world, except scaled to something that made sense for militia.
Big enough to comfortably house up to 300 souls, and yet no space seemed to be wasted.
Olive stood slightly apart from the others, Stella perched on her hip, absently twisting strands of Olive’s hair between her fingers.
Bodhi stayed close to her side, his stance angled outward, his gaze moving over the structure around us.
His eyes tracked the ceiling, the beams, the walls, the vehicles—taking it in with an almost disbelieving curiosity.
The rest of the Maddox family gathered instinctively, tightening into familiar groupings.
Abby’s hand rested against the arm Travis wasn’t using to hold Carter, Taylor stood just ahead of Falyn and their kids.
Tyler kept a steady hand on Gavin’s shoulder while Ellison leaned in, speaking low into her husband’s ear.
James and Jessica hovered near Travis, watching Trenton and Camille whisper quickly to each other.
Thomas stepped forward before questions became panic. “I know you’re all wondering why we’ve been relocated here. I’m not going to sugar coat it. There’s been movement outside the perimeter,” he said.
More whispers, a few gasps.
He continued. “We don’t have a confirmed ID yet, but Marcel made the call to move us down here as a precaution.”
“Precaution for what?” Taylor asked.
I spoke up. “The families who live here know exactly how to move if something happens, where to go and how to get there without hesitation. In the unlikely event this escalates, we’d be trying to figure it out in real time, and that puts the twenty of us in the way.
It made sense to bring us all down early to keep things controlled and everyone safe. ”
The reaction came all at once, their voices overlapping and sharp.
“How long are we supposed to stay here?”
“What kind of movement?”
“Why didn’t you tell us before now?”
“Who’s out there?”
“How would they know we’re here?”
“Where are you two going to be?” Trenton cut through the rest, his focus locked on Thomas.
Thomas hesitated, and I instantly wished he hadn’t. “We don’t know anything yet,” he said, the typical authority in his voice noticeably absent.
“That’s not an answer,” Trenton snapped back.
Thomas stared at him for a moment, apology in his eyes. “It’s the only one we have.”
Trenton took a step closer, his expression severe. “Or the only one you’re willing to give.”
“Here,” I said, answering the question Trenton had asked. “We’ll be here. With you. With our family. Where else would we be?”
The words landed the way I intended. Not defensive or reassuring, but obvious.
Trenton held my gaze for a second longer, then exhaled through his nose and stepped away.
I turned my attention to who was left standing in front of us. “You should pick rooms, beds, get settled. We could be a few hours, overnight, or it could be days. We don’t know yet. The important thing is that we’re here, together and safe.”
I caught James and Jessica trading glances with each other.
I looked back over my shoulder, then stepped aside. “You all remember Staff Sergeant Ibarra.”
Ibarra stepped forward immediately, her posture composed, familiar enough to the family to take some of the edge off.
“I’m here to get you familiar with the layout, exits, galley, and supply room.
You’ll find it’s actually quite comfortable.
I’ll also be educating you on what to do if the doors open, where to go when the other families arrive.
It’s not complicated, but it’s something you should be aware of. ”
The family nodded, some offering a polite smile.
“All right,” Ibarra said, gesturing behind them. “Let’s get you all squared away. We’ll start with your quarters.”
There was a brief hesitation, a moment where no one wanted to move first, but Abby began to guide her kids to follow and the rest broke away.
They followed Ibarra down a corridor, voices dropping into lower, more contained questions as they went.
The kids seemed to be taking it well, even the teenagers, distracted by the unfamiliar.
The adults, however, clung to the structure of being told what to do next.
I watched until the last of them disappeared from view, the noise fading with them. The bunker was even quieter than the desert at night, but the hum of systems filled in the space where voices had been.
Olive sighed behind me. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized she’d stayed behind. I reached for Stella, relieving Olive’s tired arms. “You okay?” I asked.
“Are you?” she asked.
“I’ll feel better when we have answers to give them,” I said.
“Do you think the people out there are the same ones who want to hurt Liv… Olive?” Bodhi asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said.
“The militia is stationed out here for a reason,” Thomas said. “Cartel, traffickers… it could be anyone.”
“But Marcel thinks it’s the Carlisis, doesn’t he?” Olive said, years old exhaustion lingering in her eyes. “He’d know if it weren’t. If he thought it was anyone else, he wouldn’t have put us down here.”
“Not necessarily,” I said, rubbing her arm for reassurance.
A low grind of metal sounded behind us as the lock released, followed by the long hiss of hydraulics.
The blast door opened, and Naomi stepped through alone.
Her expression made it clear she wasn’t there just to check on us this time.
She looked as if she were weighing different ways to deliver what she was about to say.
Whatever she’d come to tell us, it was going to leave a mark.
“Hey, where’s Zeke?” Thomas asked. “Everything all right?”
She forced a smile. “He, uh… he doesn’t come down here. Reminds him too much of his time inside the Cheyenne Mountain complex.” She shot a glance at Olive and Bodhi, and then her gaze landed on me. “Walk with me.”
I handed Stella to Bodhi this time, joining Naomi and Thomas as we walked several feet away.
Naomi spoke low as we walked. “I… I’ll be honest. I don’t know how to say this.
” She stopped, and we waited. Her gaze flicked briefly over my shoulder, toward the corridor where the family had gone, and then back to me.
“Governor Fairchild went missing yesterday.” She said the words quickly, as if she were ripping off a Band-Aid.
“What?” Thomas hissed, keeping his voice low. The family was nowhere near, but he turned his back to their general direction, just in case. “You didn’t think that was information we’d need to know?”
Naomi lifted a hand, stopping him. “He missed a scheduled event, along with two of his staff. Their bodies were found this morning, Thomas. Unfortunately, the governor is dead.” She didn’t rush the next part.
“The condition of the scene suggests he didn’t die immediately.
We do have good news, though. Mrs. Fairchild is safe.
They were friends of the President, as you know, and he sent a small army of Bureau and DHS agents to protect her. ”
The words settled without impact at first, as if my mind refused to attach meaning to them until it had to. Then, it landed all at once. Falyn was going to lose her shit. Underground. And somehow try to grieve her father in a way that didn’t terrify her already unsettled children.
Thomas’s jaw tightened. “You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent,” Naomi said. “It’s all over the damn news. I’m just glad Falyn isn’t able to hear what they’re reporting. His end was… gruesome.”
“Fuck,” he said, the f simmering on his lips far too long. He began to pace, rubbing the back of his neck.