“Open up, guys,” she shouted.
After a second, the door cracked open and Raymond peered out. Behind him, other people in the room were whimpering, whispering, even crying. Elna pushed the door open so she could see everyone.
“We’re relocating to the control room,” she said. “That means everyone. It’s where we make a last stand.”
“Last stand,” Rita Dulles wailed from the end of the room. “Can’t we just face them here in our own way?”
“No,” Elna barked. Her father was awake, sitting up on his bed. Apparently, the last explosion had finally roused him. Elna went to his side, put her arm around him, and pulled him to his feet. This caused another wave of agony to go down her back, and for a second she swooned.
“I’ve got him,” Malin said. He’d come up behind her, and he put his arms around George Pasqualee. “Come on, Pop. We’ve got to get you out of here.”
“And I was having such a nice dream,” Pop said. He didn’t resist when Malin laid him over his shoulder and carried him to the door. “Dreamed the new grapes had come in. But I wake up to the whole world exploding.”
The doctor and Selene started to protest as Cat approached the injured Marine, but she ignored them. Sliding her arms under Ant, she picked him up, carrying him like he was a little kid. Elna made a big sweeping gesture with her arms.
“Everyone, follow them,” she called. “Hurry! We have minutes, seconds. Get out of here, for God’s sake. Go!”
Joe and Rita were up. Joe had his wife’s hand and was pulling her along as she reluctantly followed. Elna was tempted to try to pick them both up and carry them as well, but she thought it might snap her back like a twig. Raymond, Norman, and Daniel followed Cat out of the room. Selene and Dr. Ruzka paused a moment to pack up some of their medical supplies, then they went, lugging too-full bags.
“Just go,” Elna said. “Hurry. Run. Get into the control room.”
She had to wait until Joe and Rita finally made their way across the room. Backs bent and shuffling along, they took so long that she was tempted to give in to Rita’s preference. If they wanted to stay here, maybe they should stay.
No, we’re all in this together, she thought. I won’t give up on any of our people.
She shuffled them out of the barracks room and pulled the door shut behind her. Sound was coming from the curved ramp beyond the inner door. Voices, metal tapping against metal, heavy footsteps. What were the mercenaries planning out there? Would they charge in, or would they toss an explosive through the crack in the broken door?
Joe and Rita finally managed something faster than a walk, but it was still excruciatingly slow. Elna put a hand against their backs, but she was afraid to push them, lest they topple over like the top half of the lighthouse. Suddenly, Malin came rushing back, having dumped his previous passenger in the control room. He picked up Rita Dulles and bore her away.
“Hurry, Elna,” Malin shouted. “Get in there!”
Joe Dulles stumbled just as he reached the control room door, so Elna grabbed him around the waist. Despite the burst of agony that went all the way down her back, she managed to hoist the old man off his feet and move him into the room. As soon as she did, Prig pushed past her, slammed the door shut, and threw the deadbolt.
The room was chaos, everyone moving about, unsure of what to do. Raymond and Daniel were huddled in a corner, the father trying to comfort his weeping son. Dr. Ruzka and Selene were trying to settle Ant in another corner, setting out their medical supplies and herbs on a nearby table. Golf was stuffed inside the compartment behind the access panel, cursing and banging around as he tried to find the source of the problem. In the midst of the chaos, Pop strode forward, pushing past Norman and Malin as he drew something from his pocket.
“Pop, what are you doing?” Elna asked.
She realized the tool in his hand was a small wine cap punch-down tool, a short stainless-steel rod with a kind of mesh circle on one end. Like most of the doors in the bunker, the handle was an L-shaped rod. Pop wedged the tool under the handle, setting it at an angle against the wall and door.
“Where’d you get that?” she asked.
“Brought it from the house,” he said. “Along with the other stuff. It belonged to your mother. Maybe it’ll keep them out a little longer.”
Norman and Malin then pushed a large locker against the door, using the edge to hold the tool firmly in place.
“That’ll hold them for a while,” Norman said, patting the side of the locker.
“Not if they start firing rockets at the door,” Malin muttered. “At least most of us are armed in here.”
With that, he backed up beside Elna and drew his Beretta, pointing it at the ground. Elna was straining to hear anything from beyond the door. She thought she heard people moving around out there, but it was too muffled, and there was way too much noise in the control room.
“Is their goal to destroy this place or seize control of the comm system?” Elna asked. “It seems like destroying it isn’t going to be all that hard.”
No one answered. Suddenly, Golf gave a little whoop, backed out of the guts of the comm system, and clapped. “I got it. All I had to do was reset the system, but we’re up and running, boss.” He slammed the panel shut and sat down at the console.
