I scramble to my feet. The boy has almost reached me. I frantically run my hands over the metal walls, looking for some kind of escape. A panel next to the door lights up. It’s some kind of touch screen, with buttons and numbers. I glance at the approaching boy, then back at the screen. There’s no other way out of this strange hollow space, but I need to do something before he catches me. With my heart in my throat, I push my fist into a random button.
A metal door shoots out of the tube’s entrance. It slams shut. The last thing I see is the boy’s shocked face.
CHAPTER 5
The blackness around me is so thick it feels alive, crawling over my skin. I press my hands out to the sides, but all I feel is smooth metal. The silence in this hollow place is somehow more frightening than the sirens and the pulsing light.
Inside is a tomb, outside is a secret military operation waiting to kill me. I’m trapped.
I fight back the tears that threaten to fall and wonder which option is the lesser of two evils. Stay in here waiting to die, or go outside to face whatever’s out there?
Something flickers underneath me. The round floor starts to light up—a harsh white. In another flicker, the fluorescent light spreads up the sides of the metal walls in long, narrow strips. I spin around. I’m still trapped, but at least I’m no longer in the dark.
The touch screen panel near the door starts to glow. There’s a flashing series of numbers that look almost like coordinates on a map, then a series of unmarked buttons running along the bottom screen. I can’t make sense of what it means. As I’m trying to decipher the code, the light around me begins to fade. Then everything goes black again. I punch at the darkened panel, but nothing happens.
I wrap my arms around myself. It’s cold in here and getting colder. I’m only wearing my button-down shirt; my sweater is still on the ground outside the bunker. I rub my arms, trying to stop the shaking that seems to be spreading through my body.
There’s a flash of light so bright that spots dance in front of my eyes after it disappears. I hear a humming noise. It starts out soft but slowly grows louder and louder. Soon it’s a roar, like the sound of the ocean during a storm. The light flashes again, even brighter. I squeeze my eyes shut, but I still feel it sear across my skin.
Another flash and the noise screams and it shakes all through my body. Then I realize that it’s the machine that’s shaking: the walls, the floor, everything around me. My eyes snap open. The light steadily grows brighter and brighter. I put my hands out as I try to catch my balance but then snatch them back—the metal walls are burning.
What’s happening? I tilt my head back and look at the ceiling—except it isn’t a ceiling but a swirling mass of color. The center opens to a hole that gets larger and larger, and the noise is growing louder, the light brighter, and the whirlpool closer—until suddenly my body breaks apart and I float out into something I cannot see or feel or hear. For one moment I feel solid but not whole, awake but not conscious, and then everything dips, dims, and is gone.
I come back into my body with a rush of vertigo so strong my stomach feels like it flips over, and I fall to my knees gagging. When I think I can move without being sick, I sit up in the quiet darkness.
I pull myself to my feet and grasp at the smooth metal of the walls. My head spins so much that I can barely tell which way is up, or where my body stops and the walls begin.
There’s a grinding noise when the door slides open. Light pours into the dark tube. I launch myself out of the machine and fall into a large room. The lights overhead are stark fluorescent white and the sirens have stopped. I scan the room, searching for the boy who was just here. Everything looks the same as it did before: white walls, tiled floors, large two-way mirror, and computer consoles pressed into metal desks—but no boy in black. I’m alone.
The door slides shut behind me. I turn to stare at it closing. I feel nauseous. I don’t know what just happened in that tube, but right now I need to get out of here. I run to the only door in the room and twist the handle hard. It opens easily and I glance into the empty hallway.
I hear footsteps approaching, then the sound of men speaking. I jump back into the room, frantically searching for a place to hide. I duck under one of the desks and notice a small crawl space behind a set of cabinets. I work my way into it, curling myself around the wires and dust that twist together on the floor.
The door opens. “There’s no one here,” a man with a deep voice says.
“Doctor Faust said there was activity. We have to check,” a second voice says.
“Maybe it was a glitch. This thing never seems to work right.” I hear the sound of a hand slapping against metal.
I hear footsteps coming closer, closer, and try to
