The major walked around to the front of the building and looked inside. It contained what appeared to be three rooms. The first had a decaying couch and a couple of broken chairs. The second room was the galley kitchen with a small bathroom and shower along the back wall. The third room was the bunk area, long abandoned. The place was dusty but the elements had been kept out and the concrete had kept out the most persistent of creatures from getting in. The place had been cleaned out, obviously by its previous occupants and the lack of debris and other castaways usually left behind when people left places in a hurry suggested to Thorton that this place had been occupied by former military.
What the place was for and what it was doing in the middle of the state park was still a mystery. Thorton was curious, but not that curious and was about to holler for his driver when the man stuck his head around the corner of the door which led to the kitchen.
“Sir?” The soldier, named Cody Ransom, seemed excited about something.
“What is it?” Ken didn’t hide the impatience in his voice.
“You gotta see this, sir.”
“I don’t have time for games, what is it?”
“Sir, this one I have to show you.”
Ransom’s insistence got Thorton’s curiosity aroused again and that won out over impatience. He followed the private through the kitchen and into the bunk area. There were three bunks, suggesting a rotating shift of some sort between three men, doing God knows what in this empty place. That in itself wasn’t as curious as the stairwell in the back corner that led down into the ground.
The opening was simple and was easily covered with a metal door. The floor rug had been pulled back, exposing the trapdoor into the secret of the bunker.
“Well, well. What have we here?” Thorton asked out loud, peering into the darkness.
“It’s interesting, sir. Follow me.” Ransom stepped down the small spiral staircase, quickly dropping out of sight. The Major was thoroughly curious and quickly followed. His heavy bulk caused the stairway to squeak in protest. At the bottom of the stairs was a room roughly the same size as the bedroom upstairs. A table and chair sat over by the side wall and a large desk occupied the far wall. A strange metal cabinet sat next to the desk, but the equipment on top of the desk got Thorton’s attention.
In the light of Ransom’s flashlight, Ken could see a large radio transmitter. There were numerous dials and switches, a microphone for broadcasting and three sets of headphones. Everything looked in excellent condition, despite its age and Thorton could only wonder as to why it was here.
Back in the late 1940s, the US military was coming home from Europe and Asia with a lot of ponderables and what ifs regarding the security of the United States. It was decided that a communications network needed to be set up securely from coast to coast, unreliant on local power grids and manned by military personnel. The mission and purpose was to provide communication to troops and vital personnel in the event of a nuclear attack from a hostile nation. An electromagnetic pulse, generated by an atmospheric nuclear explosion, would effectively cripple a nation by knocking out its power and communications. The military had it in mind that if such an event were to happen, they would be in a better position to coordinate a counter attack if a system of communication was still active. Across the nation, small structures were built and manned in remote areas, outside the normal prying eyes of the public. Men were stationed in theses places and rotated in and out on a three month rotation. These little buildings had their own power sources and were capable of transmitting messages hundreds of miles to the next station. What was not generally revealed, however, was that these stations had a darker secret. They were designed not only to be able to send messages, but to be able to listen in on nearly every wavelength used by professional and amateur airwaves. Essentially, these places were the listening posts of the nation, keeping an ear out for subversive activity and for reporting to the authorities any activity of a suspicious nature.
These listening posts were highly useful during the Red Scare days of the 1950’s and 1960’s, but as other methods of communication developed, they began to fall by the wayside. In 1968, the program was quietly scrapped and the system was shut down. But several posts still remain and some, undisturbed.
“Well, it’s interesting, I’ll give it that, but why are we down here, looking at a pile of old equipment?” Thorton asked.
“Sir. I thought the same thing,” Ransom answered. “But then I did this.” The private reached out and flicked a large black switch on the side of the metal cabinet. The dials of the radio suddenly glowed with life and dozens of red and green lights lit up under frequency dials.
The major took a step back as he realized what he was looking at. Something he hadn’t seen in nearly two years.
“Holy shit. There’s power here.” He said quietly. “But how?”
“Sir? Remember that little dam we drove over to get to this side of the river?” Ransom asked, walking over to the stairwell and turning on the light switch. The room was bathed in a yellow glow as an ancient light bulb slowly came to life. Thorton marveled at the bulb as Ransom continued. “I would guess that little dam has been providing power to this little station since they built it and no one ever figured out where the generators were.”
“Freaking amazing,” said the major. “Well, let’s see what this thing can do.”
“Yes, sir,” said Private Ransom, sitting down at the desk and placing the headphones over his ears. He sat there for a few minutes, adjusting a few knobs and dials. After a about ten minutes, Ransom took the headphones off and looked up at the major.
“There’s a lot of chatter out there, sir, more than I thought there would be,” Ransom said.
“Let me hear.” Thorton took the headphones and put them on. Over the airwaves, he could hear dozens of people talking to each other, mostly discussing mundane things like planting food and foraging for supplies. Some talked about trying to set out for the cities for stuff, others talking about how bad the zombies seemed to be in their area. On other channels, he overheard some people who were getting desperate, hoping someone would come to the rescue as zombies broke down their defenses. He chuckled at that, then looked over at the panel. There was a “Transmit” switch and he pointed to it as he took off the headphones.
“Think these people would hear me if I hit that switch?” Major Thorton asked his private.
Ransom shrugged. “Can’t see why not. If we can hear them, I imagine this place was set up to transmit as well and have the power to do so. How are these people talking to each other, anyway?”
Ken gave a wry smile. “If I had to guess, many of them are talking on CB radios, with a few short waves thrown in for luck. This little device seems capable of sending a message out to all of them, although I sure couldn’t tell you how.” He ran a large hand over the large black box humming quietly. “Interesting. I will have to see how this can be of use to us. For now, monitor these broadcasts and I’ll get a report from you later.”
“Yes, sir. Oh, by the way, sir?” Ransom asked.
“What is it?”
“Could you see if the rest of the place has power? My flashlight batteries are at half at best.”
Thorton laughed. “Sure thing.” He walked over to the stairwell and ran his hand along the wall. Sure enough, there was a light switch and not really thinking anything was going to happen, he flicked the switch. An old bulb weakly came to life, but it was enough to light the room and both he and the private stared at it for a moment before Thorton went back upstairs.