In a community of about four hundred people, you know everyone, and everyone knows you. Not enough to be your friend, per se, but enough to have a sense of who you are, who your friends are, and what you are about. It’s hard for me to imagine what life was like in the cities – like old L.A., where the population was in the millions. A world where you didn’t know everybody seemed strange and scary to me. Maybe it was for them, too. Only a few in the Bunker remember those times well. Most of the old are gone. A lot went crazy, living underground – or so I’ve heard. But I’ve never heard of anyone born underground who went crazy.
I don’t think it’s that bad. I have the archive, and someday, I will be a doctor here, too, like my dad. Maybe even sit on the Citizens Council like him, though he rarely attends because of his duties.
I am no one special – scrawny, quiet, and a little too smart for my own good. That’s what my dad says, anyway – that last bit, not the scrawny and quiet thing. My goaclass="underline" to exist and survive, and to not get in the way. When you get in the way, other people make trouble for you. There is only one true friend I can claim, and her name is Khloe. We’ve known each other from the cradle, but we have been distancing lately. I don’t know if it’s just us getting older or whether it’s because she’s hanging with a different group.
I reached for my sketchbook in my pack. Drawing is one of my ways to blow off steam, and I have a knack for it. As I sat in my chair, I just let the pencil move, not really paying attention to what it created. Ten minutes later, without realizing it, I had finished a sketch of the woman I had seen, as I had remembered her. Her face was slightly shaded – I remember an olive complexion, black, silky hair, and pretty, almond eyes. I was amazed by the amount of detail I remembered, but much of it was probably my imagination. She had been pretty far away.
It was the face of a woman who may have killed someone. It was a person I might have had killed. Now, I was drawing her.
I ripped the sketch out, tearing it to pieces. I felt my heart race for no good reason – like someone was going to see the sketch and know exactly what happened. I looked up to see that everyone was leaving the commons, heading for the Caf.
I wondered what was happening in the medical bay – the stabbed man, my father, and even what Chief Security Officer Chan was doing.
But he wouldn’t know about her.
I got up, and headed for the Caf.
Chapter 3
I ate alone at mess. My thoughts were heavy, and I just couldn't get into any sort of conversation.
People walked by, their faces questioning. Word had gotten around that something had happened out there. I ate my potatoes and vegetables in silence, never looking up.
“Sitting by yourself. As usual.”
A pretty, black-haired girl plopped on the metal bench next to me.
“Khloe. What are you up to?”
“Just hanging out, I guess. Eating some food, as I’m wont to do. You?"
“Much the same.”
I took another bite. I could feel her staring at me.
“So…” she asked. “How was it?”
I swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Alex Keener. I know you came across a dead body.”
“Right to the point, huh?"
“I'm a busy girl. So what happened?”
“Well, he wasn't quite dead, actually. He’s in the medical bay with my dad. Three stab wounds.” I ate another mouthful of food, and swallowed. “It was pretty bad.”
“Yeah, I know that much. Who is he? Where did he come from?”
“I don’t know. If anyone does, it's Sanchez or Chan, or…” I paused. “What’s with all these questions, anyway?”
She smiled. “You know me. I’m curious.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “If you've been asking around, you probably know more than me.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Right. Well, if you're not saying anything, you must be hiding something.”
I couldn't help widening my eyes a little.
“Hit the nail on the head, huh?”
“Yeah, maybe a little.”
“Well, what happened? Spill the beans.”
“Nothing happened. We went out, found the body, and called for help. Now we're here. Eating beans.”
I looked at her and smiled, but she was still not convinced.
“Funny,” she said. “I'm not letting you off that easy. Alex, how long have we known each other?”
“Oh no, not this…”
“Yeah, a long time. Our whole lives. And who would you say your best friend is?”
“I don't have to answer that…”
“I want to hear it, anyway.”
“You, of course.”
“Okay,” she said. “Something's bugging you, and I’m going to pry it out of you if it’s the last thing I do. You saw something weird. And you're going to tell me. I thought we were friends.”
I didn’t answer for a while. It wasn't that I didn't trust her. I knew she would keep a secret. But what I had seen weighed on me, and it would not be fair to lay it on her. What if she got in trouble, too?
“Still not talking, huh? Whatever happened, you can't pin it up inside. You need someone to talk with. I’m here.”
“You're persistent, aren't you?”
She shrugged. “I know you, Alex. You’re too quiet. It's okay to let your feelings out. Really, it would be good for you.”
I was about to protest the “feelings” bit, but decided it wasn't worth it. “Maybe later on. Somewhere more quiet than here.”
“Fine. The chapel, at twenty hundred?”
I smirked. “Are you sure this is just swapping secrets?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Geez, only kidding.”
“Finally, I get some time with you. Now that you're reconnoitering and everything, I guess you're too cool for me."
“Khloe, you know that's…”
“Hey,” Khloe said, touching my arm. “It’ll be fine, whatever it is. Just trust me.”
I looked at her for a second, trying not to focus on how good her hand felt on my arm. I stopped trying to figure her out years ago. There were feelings there, at least on my part. For some reason, nothing had ever materialized. She always seemed to be with some other loser.
Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh. All the same, I always found myself being just the friend. Honestly, that that was part of the reason for our distance, lately. It hurt to be around her.
“Alright. I’ll meet you there.”
Khloe smiled. “Good.” She jumped up, and half turned from me. “Twenty hundred, the chapel. That's almost two hours away, so be ready.”
Khloe went back to her table, and I went back to my food. I didn't know if I had made the right choice. But I knew Khloe – if she knew something was bothering me, she wouldn't let up until I told her.
Who knew? Maybe telling her would get it off my chest.
Maybe.
Chapter 4
After dinner, I went to the medical bay, entering the double doors. There were four operating tables, one set up in each quadrant of the room, all empty. The mystery man wasn’t here, so I knew he was in the back room, which was used for the extreme cases.
The air was cold, and stank of medicine. It chilled me as I walked across the bay, my boots sticking to the gray linoleum floor. I never really liked this place. It felt soulless and bare, and was colder than the rest of the Bunker.
The door to my dad’s office in the back left corner was open, which meant he was in. I went inside, and found him alone at his desk. He squinted with bespectacled eyes at his computer screen, his lab coat wrinkled and dirty.