A scream far in the distance spooked him, the sound echoing off the trees. They were waking up. He gripped his rifle and backed into the doorway, pausing to take another look at the tree line before retreating inside and bolting the heavy lock behind him. Jacob looked at James. The Marine’s head was to the side, and he was snoring loudly. His beard matted, flecks of dried blood still on his forehead. Jacob stepped lightly beyond him and opened the door to the bunker then walked into the dark stairway.
At the bottom, a gas lantern glowed, reflecting a soft orange light off the walls and ceiling and making the space feel smaller than it was. He found Stone sitting alone in an old wooden kitchen chair, his leg wrapped in fresh white bandages. Jacob turned to the far wall where he spotted Jesse. He was asleep in the lone bed along the far side; his neck was covered in gauze, a red spot marking the location of the wound. Stone waved a hand at Jacob, pointing at a chair.
“Have a seat, son,” he said. “Join me for a bit.”
Jacob crossed the open space and dropped into the old wooden chair beside the man. Stone took a pull off an amber-colored bottle then stuck a cork in the top and passed it on. Jacob held the bottle in his hand and, turning it, looked at a label he didn’t recognize. He wasn’t much of a whiskey drinker… he wasn’t much of a drinker at all outside of the occasional beer on a hot day.
“It’s vintage, but not necessarily good,” Stone said without emotion. “Go on, trust me, it’ll help you feel better.”
Jacob pulled the cork. He sniffed the strong contents and took a long sip before pulling away with a deep cough. He managed to hold the harsh liquid down, blinking his eyes rapidly while the burn passed.
The red door opened. Gloria, Stone’s wife, walked into the large room. She spied the bottle and twisted her face. “I told you that’s not good for your bleeding, Henry,” she scolded.
“It’s not me; the kid here brought it with him. I ain’t had a drop.”
She shot Jacob a cross look and shook her head. She moved to Jesse’s side and checked the man’s bandage. After pulling away the gauze and applying a new one, she adjusted his blanket, tucking it under the sleeping man’s arms. Gloria moved into the kitchen area and removed a large pot of coffee and several tin cups, setting them on the table.
She looked back at Stone. “Don’t stay up too late, Henry; you need your rest,” she said before returning to the red door.
“She’s good one, but damn she can nag up something fierce,” Stone said, watching the door to make sure it didn’t reopen before he snatched back the bottle. He took another long pull of the whiskey. “There’s plenty of room back there, ya know. We can fix you a spot if ya want. Gloria would like it; she enjoys a full house, even if it is just a bunkhouse full of stinking soldiers.”
Jacob laughed. “I’m fine out here or up in the cabin. I don’t want to intrude on your family. We’ll stay out here and keep watch for you all; it’s the least we can do.”
Stone sat quietly, looking at the wall. He took another sip of the whiskey before passing it back. “I’ve never seen anything like that today, even back in Nam. The way they came at us like rabid animals. You'd think after the last few months, nothing could surprise me anymore. But that… even back when all this shit started it was nothing like that, and I’ve witnessed my share of the hordes.” Stone looked down at his folded hands, shaking his head.
“The family here, we had it easy all things considered; better than folks in the city, anyway. I had a friend in St. Louis. He had his own connection and was able to give us some early warning, posted a message online right after the first of those meteor showers. He let us know the stories were true; you know, about the takings, that the riot stories were all bullshit.
“He was updating us on the real deal before the government was even admitting something was wrong. I told Gloria we couldn’t take the chance on it all blowing over or being contained in the west the way the news people said it would. We made a vacation out of it; invited the kids up here to the old homestead for some family time. Schools and most jobs were closed anyway, so it was easy to sell them on it.
“This place used to belong to my granddad. It was a big farmhouse back in the day. Two-story home built over a full cellar—used to be full of potatoes and canned goods when I was a kid. My father inherited the place; he's the one that had all of this improved. He cleaned up and reinforced the basement walls with block. Added the extended room back there as an underground bunk house.
“He let the house above go; he always had a notion something like this would happen and he wanted a safe place for his family. He was planning on an atom bomb though; you know, back when the cold
