So I suited up, made sure my Beretta M9 was loaded, and went to the rear hatch. It opened without issue and the airlock was clear. I let the air cycle before setting foot outside. The outer hatch sealed behind me with a clunk and a hiss. It’d only open with the code I had set upon my arrival.

A quick scan and I was out from the overhang. Soft ground sluiced under my boots, sucking at the heels. It looked so bleak. So colorless and bland. The sky an empty gray. Like it was forever caught before a storm. My own breathing rang in my ears through the mask.

Someone screamed and I turned to see one of the scavengers run at me with a piece of heavy looking wood. Three shots rang out. Right in the ten ring. Hostile down. He groaned and spat blood as I resumed my search. It wasn’t too far to the other hatch. I hadn’t even wondered why there was already someone here.

Something hit the back of my head.

Darkness.

I woke up hog tied. My vest was gone as was my gun. I managed to glance around without too much movement. We were somewhere dryer. Possibly on top of the bunker itself. There were three figures sitting by a fire nearby. The sun’s down. I must have been out all day and into the next. What did he HIT me with?

I can hear them now.

“You idiot. You weren’t supposed to brain him. Now we can’t get in there,” One of them admonished.

The other responds, probably the one that hit me, “Yeah but he shot Brian! Killed him right there!”

“The moron ran at him with a piece of wood. Didn’t I explain we needed to lure him out and get the drop?” the leader, presumably, explains.

The last is a big one, not a lot of meat, just a tall build. He speaks, “Doesn’t matter. Brian was dick. Tastes fuckin’ terrible, too. We got the guy.”

A little shadow walked up to the three and sat next to the leader. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get inside, Daddy.”

May. She sat down and took of a piece of the meat roasting over the fire. The leader patted her on the head and said, “That’s okay, little petal. You got him out, at least. Isn’t your fault he’s got only a little soul.”

I’m not sure whether to be sick or angry. I tried to move my hands but a pain in my skull forced a moan out. Of course they heard it and of course they walked over to me.

“Hey, soldier. I didn’t think we’d get you out of there without actually killing my little petal. Smart of you to close that vault. Too bad, though, because you’re gonna tell me how to open it.”

Well…shit.

She had had a nightmare. I sat at the screens and hummed her a lullaby until she could fall asleep again. Then I moved my bed into the lab so I could more quickly respond. She woke me up the next morning singing some little song she was probably making on the fly.

Now I get up and hit the intercom to say, “Good morning, May. You sleep okay?”

She starts coughing again but pulls herself up to the intercom and responds, “Ok. I’m cold.”

I rub my face and the back of my neck, trying to ignore what she said. Of course she’s cold, but at least she has food. Right? I see her pull some of that dried meat out and start to chew. She has some cans in there too, doesn’t she have a can opener?

“Well, I have to get to maintenance. I’ll be back real quick. Ok?”

She mumbles, “Ok.”

I sigh and set about my chores. Everything is fine, as usual. The whole time I’m working she’s all I can think about. Maybe if I just let her into the airlock? It’ll be warmer, at least. I can give her things if I’m careful.

But no, I can’t do that. Obviously if I open my door while she’s IN the airlock whatever she’s carrying will just worm it’s way inside and I could be dead within a week. But maybe that’s ok. Doesn’t she deserve this place more than me?

I’m manning the air pump when I lose it. I dash my toolbox across the floor and slump to the ground. I can’t just LEAVE her out there. Shit. Maybe I can seal off an area of the bunker. I could make her up one of the spare rooms, there are enough. As long as I close the room’s vent off it’ll only exchange air with the outside, through the filters, and not contaminate the rest of the bunker.

It’ll have to work. I’m starting to feel pretty good about the idea when I take a seat at the monitors. It occurs to me that she hasn’t asked me once if she could come in. Although it’s only been a couple days, maybe she’s too polite. Heh. Who’d have thought the last kid on Earth would be a sweet one?

I’m about to hit the intercom when I spot some movement on the other camera feed.

Two men are stomping through the mud. They look starved and ragged. I remember what May had said about her parents. Could these be the ones that did the deed? Were things so bad out there hunting children was a valid preoccupation? Maybe it was the bag she was dragging around. I can’t imagine what food is worth.

Ok…so no time for my original plan. I have to save May. Which means I either let her in now or head out there and kill them both. It’s a good thing I’ve been taking care of my pistol.

She just stands or sits in front of the front hatch camera. Sometimes she waves. Does she know I’m here? She’s dirty but not starved. She is skinny, very skinny, but not on the verge of death. How can she be out there?

After the plague? After everything that’s gone on out there? How could she be alive without any protective gear? How can she even EXIST?

She has to be a hallucination. I’ve already started hearing things. This has got to be the seclusion and depression setting in. There’s just no way she’s real. She can’t be real.

Can she?

She moves closer to the door and I bolt upright. I can’t see her anyway. She’s too small for the camera that close to the hatch door. I almost get up and run to the front door. I just want to see her for real.

The intercom buzzes with her little voice, “Hello?”

It’s distorted and cracked but it’s her. Or is it? I just can’t tell. Is this just more madness seeping forth? My hands are trembling as they reach for the button. I know I shouldn’t say anything. If she’s just a delusion I can’t give into it, no matter how tempting.

But what if she IS real? I can’t just let her rot out there.

I can barely manage a whisper, “H-hi there.”

She leaps back from my response and stares at the camera in surprise and fear. Then she smiles. A little girl smile. She claps her hands together excitedly and runs off.

“Wait! Don’t go! Don’t…” I shout into the intercom. But she’s already gone. I can’t spot her on any of the other cameras. I sit back and sigh, running my hand down my face. Should I go out after her? I have a chemical suit and as long as I cycle the airlock coming and going I should be fine.

Shit. If she’s a carrier I can’t just BRING her in here. Could she be immune? I certainly don’t know how to test for it or treat it. I can clean a bullet wound well enough, sure. But blood work and medicine and all that crap? Shit.

She can’t be here alone. There’s just no way. If she brings her family back they’ll ALL want in. I can’t just throw them some food like they were ducks and tell them to go.

Although it’s not like they can force their way in. I’m not sure if I could stand by and watch people starve to death on my front porch. I never liked killing people. It’s why I preferred to work with machines. Make the guns work so someone else can fire them.

It’s a couple hours before she’s back. She’s dragging a bag with her. It’s a big duffel bag. It looks like it takes all her strength just to move it. No wonder it took her so long to return. She plops it down by the front hatch where its dry.

The way the front hatch is built there’s a long overhang and a lip at the end on the top and bottom. It works great for backing trucks in. Throw up an air-tight seal and you’re good to go for transporting goods or passengers. She starts pulling stuff out of the bag.

Blankets and some food. I use the term “food” loosely. Canned stuff and maybe some dried meat. I don’t want to know what kind of meat it is. It looks like she has a tent too, but she doesn’t bother trying to set it up.

She hops over to the intercom and says, “Hi again. My name is May. Can I stay here?”

I nearly fall out of my chair grabbing at the microphone, “Yeah, yeah! That’s cool. Go ahead.”

She responds through the electric crackle, “What’s your name?”

“Uh, Jack. My name’s Jack,” I say, trying to remember how to talk to another living being. “What are you doing all alone, May? Where’s your mom or dad?”

She’s quick to respond and I find it a little disturbing, “They’re dead.”

I don’t know why I asked that. The answer was pretty obvious. Lousy conversation starter. She steps away from the intercom and sits in her pile of dirty blankets. After a moment of thought she pulls a piece of jerky out and starts to chew on it.

I really hope that’s animal jerky.

She pulls what looks like a water damaged story book out of her pack and flips through the pages. Then she sighs and puts it down. Even from the camera feed I can tell it’s beyond readable. May hops up and goes to the intercom.

“Mr. Jack? I’m getting sleepy, can you read me a story?” she asks, as innocent as a sunrise. “My Papa used to when I couldn’t sleep.”

I’m not sure if she was starting to cry, but I know I was having a hard time not losing it. Fuck. I want to let her in so badly. She doesn’t deserve this. If anyone should be safe in here it’s May. But if I open that door and let her in it could kill me.

I hit the button and speak into the intercom, “Yeah, May. I can tell you a story.”

God help me.

Before the world died I laughed at my wife for wanting to get some Feng Shui weirdo in to redecorate the apartment. Now I wonder what could have been done to improve this room. Maybe if my cot was moved closer to the door or faced a different direction I’d wake up refreshed for once.

The boxes of provisions certainly do nothing for the room. On top of the box I use as a dinner table is my little house made of protein bars. Before I was told to get my sorry ass to this bunker.

“Prep the generators and get everything running. You’ll be living in with a number of VIPs,” they had said. VIPs. Because that’s all I needed to know.

At least I have my job: military engineer. Assigned to this shit-hole town in the middle of a marsh in Illinois. I’ve been sitting in this steel and cement sanctuary for God knows how long.

The VIPs never made it. It’s just me and enough food to last the apocalypse. I haul myself off the cot and wander to my protein bar house. I lash out and knock it to pieces before grabbing one of those that fell and tearing it open. Breakfast of champions.

I start my rounds by checking the generator. The solar panels seem to be taking in enough, I don’t need to start using gas yet. Although, a quick run on the bike could provide a little supplemental energy. A few tweaks here or there, mostly to keep myself busy.

That could use a bit of tightening.

I’ve got plenty of spares for when that eventually wears out.

Well, next is the-

“Jackie?” a voice calls from the hall.

I stand up and wait. That was a familiar voice. I know there is no one here. I move from the machines and peer down the cold steel and cement hallway. I can see the three bedrooms, one of which I’ve taken for myself, but nothing else. The store rooms are farther down near the main hatch and the lab is the other way past the utilities room.

The rear hatch is in here, and I know there’s no one with me.

I sigh, “So I’m finally going crazy.”

The idea of talking to some imaginary person really wasn’t that bad an idea. At least I’d have company.

Next is the air pump. It’s manual, but easy to get working. I get the air circulating again in short order. Plumbing seems fine and I’ve got plenty of water for now. This place was built to house at least two families of four and myself. I’m not too concerned about running out of supplies.

My daily tasks taken care of I take a seat at what I assume was supposed to be the lab. The surface monitoring equipment is in here, though. Nothing at the front hatch. The rear hatch camera has been dead for a while now, a little disconcerting since it’s supposed to be hidden. I’ve thought about going out to see if I could fix it, but with the plague drifting around like a microscopic reaper I’m not risking it.

Nature cam one: Nothing but scraggly nasty trees.

Nature cam two: Some bushes and wet soggy earth.

Nature came three: More swamp.

I watch the cameras. Not sure what I’m hoping for. The rescue party? Big Papa Government showing up with a big smile and a magic fix? Maybe the VIPs I’m supposed to be looking after are still out there, looking for this promised haven.

I start drifting off to sleep. There is a soft hand on my shoulder and my wife’s voice whispers in my ear, “Look, Jackie. Look.”

I mumble her name and glance at the monitor. There’s a young woman staring straight at the camera.

Outside.