In seconds, the occupants were being pulled to the bottom.
Gideon managed to gulp a deep breath of air before they went under. Holding that precious oxygen, he went into a frenzy as he unbuckled himself then turned to his father.
The sight that met his eyes sent icy tendrils down his spine.
General Cole was limp, his hands floating above his head—his head at an unnatural angle. Blood was dissipating into the river’s current from the older man’s mouth.
Something clutched Gideon’s heart and threatened to make him gag as he pressed the unlock button on his father’s seat buckle.
He kept telling himself that his father was unconscious but something in the way the limp form moved told him the worst had happened.
Glancing over his shoulder, Gideon saw that Lynda had already unbuckled herself and was now trying to free her Dad’s corpse. Reaching out, Gideon grabbed the young lady’s shoulder.
Her copper red hair wrapped around his wrist in the water.
She turned, baby-blues wide in panic.
Gideon shook his head slowly, lines of sadness etched in the corners of his eyes. He then turned back to his father’s body and grabbed him by the arms. Kicking his feet, he propelled them both up toward the surface.
The action was harder than it seemed and he struggled.
But suddenly, the body felt lighter and Gideon looked down to see Lynda grabbing onto the front of his father’s uniform and pushing herself up in the water. He nodded his thanks and in seconds all three heads broke the surface.
Gasping for air, Gideon held the General’s head above.
“Dad?” He choked on the dirty water as he swatted the man’s cheeks.
No response.
The General wasn’t breathing and his head was still in a bad turn.
The two young people dragged the body out of the water onto the rocky shore. Struggling to push themselves up onto all fours, they sat on both sides of the General.
“Dad?” Gideon felt like he was choking again, only this time not on river water. He leaned down and pressed his right ear to the man’s chest.
There was no heartbeat.
“No.” The word came out in a whisper as Gideon started administering chest compressions.
Lynda reached up and laid her hand on his shoulder.
“Gideon,” she mumbled. “His neck is broken.”
Gideon hesitated for a split second before continuing with pumping his fists against his Dad’s chest.
“Gideon,” Lynda moved her hand to his cheek as she raised herself on her knees to lean her face closer to his. “He’s dead. You have to let him go.”
Gideon stopped pumping. He felt like crumpling into a ball, his entire body wanted to collapse in on itself. Tears stung his eyes and he stared down at the closed eyes of his father.
No, he thought. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Lynda reached out and slipped her hands around Gideon’s neck, pulling him to her.
Burying his face against the crook of her neck, he breathed in the wet scent of her hair as his body racked with his sobbing.
“He wanted us to make it. We need to get to the bunker. You have to let him go. We have to let them both go.”
Her words put something in his heart.
A resolve, he was certain he didn’t have, sprung up from the recesses of his broken heart and steeled his nerves.
Pulling away from her, he nodded.
“You’re right,” he remarked, meeting her gaze.
With that the two of them gently scooted the body of the General back into the river, letting it be carried away by the current.
Turning around, Gideon looked to the sky over the city.
A massive mushroom cloud climbed heavenward, blanketing the buildings and hiding them away in its deadly cover.
“We need to get there before the radiation kills us.” He muttered. Grabbing her hand in his, he charged up the riverbank and they both broke into a run.
“Is that the mountain your Dad said the bunker is under?” Lynda yelled over heavy breaths.
“I think so,” Gideon felt the adrenaline still pumping through his muscles as his feet pounded the ground. He knew they only had minutes before the after-effects of the nuke would pulverise their bodies.
Something was standing on the mountain, halfway up the incline—it looked to be some sort of satellite or electrical apparatus amid the trees.
This sign gave the two escapees an influx of hope, bringing a new wave of adrenaline with it. They charged up the blacktop which shifted into a dirt road closer to the foot of the mountain.
Gideon even chuckled.
“There’s the door,” he pointed toward a metal storm-hatch imbedded in the rocky dirt. Sprinting the rest of the way, he ascended the mountain and dropped to his knees when he reached the egress. Grabbing the iron wheel, he started turning it just as Lynda joined his side.
She grabbed the wheel too and helped with the strain.
The levers squeaked but even with the rust, the lock lifted and the couple watched the hatch lift.
Yanking the wheel toward himself, Gideon hollered.
“Get inside!”
Just as Lynda put one foot down the hole and set it on the first step of a metal staircase leading down into the bowels of the mountain, a ring of distant explosions caused her to freeze.
Something flashed above them.
Gideon raised his face to the sky and caught his breath.
Lynda gaped in horror at the scene.
Hundreds of tiny balls of fire were twinkling across the heavens. Some started falling toward the earth, dragging tails of fire behind them.
“It looks like the stars are falling,” she muttered.
Gideon shook his head and clenched his jaw. Glancing over his shoulder at the mushroom cloud in the middle of the city, he remarked.
“Not stars, satellites. Our precious countries are shooting each other’s satellites down.”
Something flashed on the horizon and the two peered in that direction.
Another nuke cloud raised its head—this one at least fifty miles away, Gideon surmised.
He grimaced.
“What on earth is going on?” Lynda gasped, her blue eyes reflecting the red and orange hues of this last day.
Gideon didn’t speak for a moment. Then, with a cough, he stood to his feet and stepped up behind her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he ushered her down the staircase.
“Come on,” he growled. “We need to get as deep as possible before the radiation gets too high.”
“But,” Lynda broke off her sentence and started down the flight of metal steps. She would rather ask the questions later than be tripped down.
Closing the hatch above them, Gideon turned and waved Lynda forward while he scurried after her.
The clang of their feet against the metal grates echoed in the chamber as they descended.
After reaching the fourth level—which was approximately 40 feet underground, according to the measurement paintings on the concrete walls—Lynda paused and turned to face Gideon.
“Why were they shooting satellites down and bombing cities?” She demanded.
“We need to get down there, Lynda!” Gideon ordered.
“Answer me!” She almost screamed.
Breathing in deep, he shook his head at her stubbornness.
“Because they’re afraid.” He chuckled—sounding more like he’d gone insane rather than finding this funny. “That’s always been humanity’s biggest character flaw. Fear. The virus started killing them so they turned on each other. So, if the virus doesn’t wipe them out, they’ll obliterate themselves.”
“So,” Lynda’s face had gone pale—the green lights from the emergency lamps in the bunker tunnel made her skin the same colour as a pale green onion.
Gideon liked onions.
He mentally kicked himself.
What the blazes are you doing? His brain screamed at him. Of all the times to think about physical attraction, you pick the end of the world!