A few seconds later, Carl’s voice called out, “Clear.”
Madox informed me, “Kate is on the floor, and Carl has his shotgun aimed at her head. Just so you know.” He pointed to the opening. “Go.”
I sat on the floor and lowered myself, feet and shackles first, into the hole until I felt the first step. I knew that once Kate and I were down in this subterranean area, no one on the ground was going to find us.
Madox said, “Let’s go, John. I’m on a tight schedule.”
I descended the spiral staircase, which wrapped around the hydraulic piston. It was not that easy to move in shackles, but my hands were free, so I held both rails and mostly slid down.
On that subject, if Madox intended to handcuff us at some point, then I’d have to make a move before that happened. I knew Kate also understood that.
It was about twenty feet to the floor below, the height of a two-story building, and I guessed without too much thinking that this was the fallout shelter.
At the bottom of the spiral staircase was a round, concrete room, lit with bare fluorescent bulbs.
Opposite the last step, about ten feet away, was a shiny steel bank-vault door embedded in the concrete wall.
Behind me, Carl said, “Facedown.”
I turned and saw Carl at the other end of the round space, pointing his shotgun at Kate, who was lying facedown on the floor.
This might have been a good time to make a move, but before I could decide, Carl aimed his shotgun close to Kate’s head and shouted, “Three! Two-!”
I got down on the cold concrete floor, and Carl yelled, “Clear!”
I heard Madox scrambling down the spiral staircase as though he’d practiced this a few times.
He said, “John, I think one of you has to go.”
I didn’t reply.
A few seconds went by, and I heard Luther’s boots on the stairs, then the hissing sound of the hydraulic piston, and finally the table and floor dropping into place.
Luther was down the spiral stairs, and Madox said to him, “Open the door.”
I heard the vault wheel click, then a small squeak as the heavy door swung open.
Madox told me, “John, no matter what move you make, or try to make, Kate is the first to get shot.” He said to Carl and Luther, “You got that? If Corey makes a move, you shoot Kate. I’ll take care of Mr. Corey.”
Carl and Luther both replied, “Yes, sir.”
Then, Madox warned, “You’re trying my patience, and I’m running almost ten minutes behind schedule. So, you either behave and do what you’re told, quickly, or I shoot one of you so we can get back on schedule. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good. You’re never a hero to your wife, anyway, so don’t even try.”
“Good advice.”
The next thing I heard was Madox saying, “Kate. Stand. Hands on head.”
She stood, and Madox instructed, “Follow Carl.” Then to me, “John. Stand. Hands on head. Follow at twenty feet.”
I stood, put my hands on my head, and noticed now a big canvas bag on the floor. It was partly unzipped, and I could see the sleeve of my leather jacket peeking out. Apparently, Derek had given Luther all our things, and the last trace of our being at Custer Hill-except for Rudy’s van, which they’d get rid of-was now gone.
Madox saw what I was looking at and said to me, “They won’t even find your DNA in the bear shit.” He motioned toward the door. “Go.”
I went through the vault door, which was embedded in about three feet of concrete.
Madox, behind me, said, “Welcome to my fallout shelter.”
Luther brought up the rear, and I could hear the vault door closing and locking.
I had the sense that we were under the back terrace, deep in the bedrock, and not connected to the basement of the house. I also had the sense that there wasn’t anyone on the surface who could ever find us.
CHAPTER FIFTY
We were now in a wide corridor whose concrete walls were painted a light green that changed into sky blue about a third of the way up the ten-foot height. The ceiling was covered with frosted glass panels, behind which were bright violet lights that, I guessed, were grow lights, though I didn’t see any vegetation, unless you counted the horrid 1980s Astroturf on the floor.
I suppose someone was trying to create the illusion that you were outdoors in a sunlit meadow that happened to look like an underground concrete corridor.
Madox said, unnecessarily, “You’re supposed to think you’re aboveground.”
I asked, “Aren’t we?”
He didn’t answer my question. “My idiot ex-wife’s idea.” He added, “She had an irrational fear of atomic war.”
“Silly woman.”
He seemed in a better mood, and he motioned to an open door to the right, which I could see was a children’s playroom. “The children were young then, and she thought they’d thrive down here.”
I commented, “The grow lights might help, but their playdates might be somewhat limited.”
He wasn’t paying any attention to me, and he actually seemed to be talking to himself. “She saw On the Beach and Dr. Strangelove about twenty times, and I don’t think she realized one was a serious film, and the other was gallows humor.” He added, “Nuclear Armageddon movies sent her to her therapist for months.”
I had the impression that Bain Madox had some issues with his ex-wife’s obsession with nuclear holocaust, and maybe what he was trying to do now was work through that by starting a nuclear war of his own. I was sure that Mrs. Madox would be one of the first people he called after it was over.
Anyway, Kate and I moved slowly down the passage in our shackles, and every time I hitched up my pants, Luther yelled, “Hands on your head,” and I replied, “Fuck you.”
I could hear the vents blowing, but the air smelled damp and slightly unpleasant.
On either side of the passage were open doors that revealed furnished rooms-bedrooms, a sitting room, a kitchen, and a long dining room with paneled walls, heavy drapes, a coffered ceiling, and plush carpets. Behind one closed door, I distinctly heard talking, then I realized it was a radio or television-so maybe someone else was down here.
Madox, again talking to himself, said, “She spent a fortune decorating this place. She wanted to sit out the half-life of radioactive fallout in the style to which she’d become accustomed.”
He was on a roll, so I didn’t comment.
He continued, “On the other hand, I find this space useful. First, for my ELF transmitter-and also as a place to store a fortune in art treasures, gold, and cash.” He made a joke. “The last IRS agent who came snooping around is still locked in a room down here.”
Good one, Bain. Actually, this place looked like the Fuhrerbunker, but this might not be the right time to make that comparison.
We reached the end of the passageway, which must have run for fifty yards, and Carl unlocked a steel door, opened it, and turned on the lights.
Madox said, “Kate, follow Carl. John, stop.”
Kate disappeared into the doorway, and I stood there.
Carl called out, “Clear.”
Madox said, “John, follow.”
I was getting a little tired of these doggie commands, but it wasn’t worth mentioning now that we were so close to… the end.
I entered the room and saw that Kate again was on the floor, and Carl stood against the far wall, covering her
