“It’s a big sky,” Finch replied.
“Whoever they are…they’re definitely headed somewhere.” Nate followed the trail, walking a little ahead of everyone else. “They know where they’re going.”
“I was thinking,” Rey said, “you know what’s funny.”
“Funny?” Finch asked. “You’re finding something funny? I would love to hear what you’re finding funny.”
“Maybe not funny, but ironic,” Rey said. “Quinn told us Wyoming was a safe state. Nothing ever happened there, right?”
“Right.”
“That means Yellowstone never erupted. All those years they kept saying it would blow,” Rey said. “And the world shook and shifted and it still didn’t go off.”
“That is funny in an ironic way,” Finch said, then noticed Nate had stopped. “Nate, what’s wrong?”
“They stopped. I mean.” Nate turned around. “When I crossed that patch of weeds, they just disappeared.”
“Maybe they veered off before that,” Curt suggested. “Everyone look around.”
“Oh, there,” Rey said. “Right there before the weeds.”
Curt laughed. “The mighty tracker missed it.”
“I’m not a tracker.” Nate started walking back. “I’m a…” His startled scream faded with an echo as he suddenly dropped out of sight.
“Nate!” Finch shouted, charging forth.
“Stay back!” Curt held out his hand. “We have to be careful.” He inched forward. “Nate!”
A distant groan carried to them. “I’m okay,” Nate replied, his voice sounding deep and hollow. “The thingy broke my fall. I’m fine. I think.”
“The thingy?” Curt looked questioningly at Finch. He then inched a little more. As soon as he neared the weed patch that Nate was talking about he saw the opening in the ground. “I found him.”
“Nate!” Finch called. “I have a rope, we’ll pull you up. How unstable do you think this area is?”
“I don’t think it’s unstable, just…where someone tried to block off a stairwell,” Nate called up. “Guys? I think you should come down here. You should see this.”
The bouncing sound to Nate’s voice really made Finch curious. He and Rey joined Curt.
Curt stood at the edge of the opening, staring down. A slate of concrete had fallen into the opening. It had collapsed in a slanted way, acting like a steep slide, the edge of which rested on the first landing of a long staircase. He glanced over his shoulder to Finch. “It’s the old Metro.”
<><><><>
Curt secured a line onto the remnants of an old railing. It felt strong enough, and he tested it first, climbing down on the slanted slab of concrete. He waited on the first landing for Rey. She descended next, followed by Finch.
All three of them turned on their flashlights, which gave them plenty of light to make it down the stairs.
Nate’s beam of light moved back and forth. He was at the bottom of the staircase.
“You alright?” Finch asked. “You’re not injured?”
“I probably would have been if I’d rolled down the stairs,” Nate said. “Fortunately, I’m not Ben.”
“Hey, Curt,” Rey said. “You think because he wasn’t falling to his death was the reason you failed to…clutch him?”
“Yeah,” Nate said. “Why didn’t you clutch me?”
“First of all, that’s not funny. Second…he was fifteen feet away,” Curt defended.
“Why exactly are we down here?” Finch asked.
“This is amazing,” Nate stated. “It stayed structurally strong.”
“That we know of,” Finch said.
“But that’s not it. Look what I found as soon as I came down the stairs,” Nate said.
“Why did you go down the steps?” Finch asked. “That was dangerous.”
“I know, but I saw it…” Nate pointed to flat metal object near the edge of the wall at the bottom of the stairs. “I think the reason that blockade collapsed is because they poked a hole in it. It weakened it.”
“Who?” Finch asked.
“Whoever lived here,” Nate replied. “This is a stove. Well, they used it as a stove. A big one too. Smoke would carry up the staircase. This whole area…” Nate walked a few feet. “Look at the tables. They moved them down here. Like this was the main cafeteria.”
Curt walked to a table. “There are ten tables. That’s a lot of people.”
Rey ran her hand over one of the tables. “It’s dusty but not ruined by mold or humidity.”
“So a civilization was here for a while,” Finch said. “How long ago?”
“Maybe fifty years by the coloring,” Nate said. “Still, this part of the county with all that happened? Did they move here or hunker down here? That’s what I want to know.”
“It’s not important,” Curt said. “Is it?”
Before Nate could answer, a male sounding shriek of surprise echoed to them. It was as if someone in the distance of the subway saw something that startled him.
Rey jumped. “Someone’s here.”
Finch pulled out his pistol and spun to the sound. When he did, he was blasted by two bright lights. He tried to shield his eyes, keeping his aim steady.
“It is him!” the male voice shouted.
“There is no way,” another male said.
“I’m telling you. I’d recognize that face anywhere. It’s Commander Finch. Holy shit, it’s The Clutch. It’s the crew of the Omni-4. Some of them.”
One light went down to the ground as the other man said, “Well, let’s not blind them.”
Finch still held aim, even though he was bewildered.
Rey looked at Finch. “We are so popular in the apocalypse.”
The two men emerged from the shadows, their lights lowered. They weren’t flashlights like Finch and the others carried, or even spotlights. They were rectangular and exceptionally bright.
“I knew it,” the taller man with the country accent said, rambling excitedly. “I knew you guys were alive. I just knew it. Didn’t I think that, Sam? Maybe I didn’t say it after Merks was all like, ‘no way could their commander snap to consciousness and not hit the big blue.’ That’s what he said. Did you guys fall down that hole? There’s an easier way down here, you know. Oh, gees, where are my manners. By the way”—he extended his hand to Finch—“I’m Tucker Freeman.”
FOURTEEN
The new guy, Tucker, just liked to talk. He carried on a conversation about some guy named Merks and how cool the White House was, but he didn’t give any real information.
