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The Fallout

  Kristen Duvall

  The Fallout

  by Kristen Duvall

  Copyright 2013 Kristen Duvall

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Photo by MorgueFile

  Cover Design by Kristen Duvall

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, trademarked products, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  To learn more about this writer, please check out her webpage at https://www.kristenduvall.com/.

  You may also follow her on Facebook or Twitter.

  “They came to me in my dreams. The people we left behind, I mean.”

  “And what did they say to you, Mallory?” Dr. Russell tilted her head, paper and pen in hand as she took notes.

  “My friend, Zora spoke to me. She told me that I should never come up again.” I refused to look the doctor in the eye as I spoke. “Or else.”

  “Or else what?” Dr. Russell stared at me and let the silence fill the room as I deliberated whether or not I should tell her. Finally, the silence became too much.

  “They’d eat me.” I lowered my voice before continuing. “She'd eat me.”

  The doctor nodded as she wrote something down. “Tell me what happened?”

  “It all started at six fifty seven a.m. when the announcement was made to exit the shelter. Then my dad woke up and we had the last of our rations while everyone celebrated outside.” I chewed my fingernail for a brief second, too nervous to go into too much detail.

  “What happened next?” She watched me carefully.

  “They opened the doors anyway of course.” I shrugged my shoulders. “And they were there. Only they weren't the people we left behind, they were... monsters.”

  “Mmm I see...” The doctor started writing something down again.

  “My dreams come true, you know.” I stared at her as she stopped writing and looked up at me.

  “I know.”

  ooo000ooo

  “The supplies are running low, I'm not sure how much longer we can hold out.” Mr. Perkins' voice made the metal walls vibrate in our tiny shelter.

  “But has enough time passed? Can we be sure?” My dad's voice was lower than usual, quieter. I had to push my ear up to the metal door to hear him.

  “Five years? That should be plenty of time for the chemicals to have left the atmosphere. You're one of the best scientists we had on staff and even you said it would only take three years. We only decided to stay a few years longer to be safe and because we had the supplies.” He paused for a moment. “And now we are running out.”

  I remembered the day of the explosion, though the science behind it made very little sense to me. I was only nine years old back then. Being out on this planet by ourselves, we couldn't get off in time. The natives, like my friend, weren't able to join us. No one would tell me why.

  “Mallory is having dreams again.” My ears perked up at the mention of my name.

  “Yes? And so what's that supposed to mean? We starve because a little girl who's had a few dreams coincidently come true in the past is telling us to stay here?”

  My dad started to say something, but was interrupted by Mr. Perkins' fists hitting the table. “That's bullshit, Tom, and you know it. We can’t let everyone down here starve to death because of some little girl's ridiculous dreams.”

  I couldn't step in and remind him that the dreams I had, the very dreams he now called ridiculous, had saved our lives. My warning came long before the sirens had sounded, a whole night before. I was able to alert dad that morning and we were able to pack everything up and get underground just in time. I was sleeping on site for that very reason, they knew I would see danger before their engineers ever could.

  However, none of that mattered because we needed food and we needed it soon. Even I knew that. News of the impending food shortage spread like a virus through our underground community. Panic followed swiftly behind and people were starting to push for action. Mr. Perkins was now feeling pressure to do something, anything. No one wanted to starve to death and he was the one in charge.

  “Let's just think about this before we go any further, Jack --” My dad's voice was rising ever so slightly.

  Mr. Perkins remained silent for a moment and I wondered if perhaps he was considering it. A second later though, his loud voice echoed throughout the chamber and almost made me jump away from the door. “Monsters don't exist, Tom. Sometimes a little girl's nightmares are simply that... nightmares.”

  “But maybe --”

  “No, my decision is final. We exit the shelter at eight tomorrow morning. I will send out the notice.” A chair scraped across the floor and I heard heavy footsteps moving toward the opposite end of the bunker, toward the door.

  “But what about the others. The ones we left behind?” My father asked the question lingering in my own mind.

  “They're dead.” The footsteps stopped, the sound of the door handle being turned was the only sound filling the room. “Just like they're supposed to be.”

  The wall I was leaning against shook from the weight of the door slamming. My father's footsteps came closer to the bedroom. I ran toward my bed, jumped in and pretended to be asleep as he entered the room. With our quarters as cramped as they were, he normally woke me up as he got ready for bed, but tonight I just pretended to sleep. I was too scared to dream, so I just stared at the bunker ceiling wondering about the world above us.

  I still wondered what had happened after we fled. It all happened so fast, I didn't realize we'd left the others behind until it was too late. Their fates were sealed the minute Mr. Perkins locked up the heavy door.

  The bunkers were conveniently there, and until recently, I never really wondered why they came pre-stocked with food and everything else we needed for five years of survival. It was dark underground, and quiet at first. But within minutes, the rumbling from above sounded like a volcano erupted, or maybe an earthquake. The metal walls shook all around us, the door rattled so hard in its frame that I feared it might fall off. The shaking eventually stopped and our underground shelter remained intact. Silence once again filled the caverns as we waited. Waited for what, I don't know. Maybe we thought we were all going to die that day as well, or maybe we were coming to the realization that we were now trapped underground.

  Eventually people started talking again, though I noticed that nobody ever spoke of what might have happened above ground.

  Mr. Perkins appointed himself as our leader since he was the one in charge of the project that sent us here. He appointed my dad as his second-in-command, saying he was the only man to be trusted with such responsibilities. I heard my dad tell a few others that we were all written off as “collateral losses” by the company. I wondered how he knew this, but I was always too afraid to ask.

  And here we were, five years later. Not a single night went by that I didn't yearn for the grass and sunshine, I missed it dearly but knew I'd never see my home again. In my dreams, the planet was as dead as the people we’d left behind.

  The sound of an alarm startled me as it sounded through the bunkers.

  "Good morning!” The voice of Mr. Perkins rang out over the loud speakers, “I have wonderful news to report. I am happy to announce that in just over an hour, we will be heading back above ground. We are going home.”

  Everything started clicking into place and the heavy weight of dread settled down upon me. I glanced at the clock, 6:57 a.m.

  “Hi, sunshine,” My dad's voice startled me, but fell right in sync with my dreams. “How about some breakfast? Might as well make a final feast of our rations to celebrate our last day down here, right?”
r />   Knowing my dad the way I did, I could see the effort he was putting into being extra chipper. But I could see the concern in his eyes. I nodded, my stomach churning but not from hunger.

  I could hear clamoring outside our main door, people celebrating and exclaiming, “We're going home! At last!”

  We were doomed.

  ooo000ooo

  Everyone crowded together and tried to push their way to the front of the group, jostling with one another, trying to be the first ones out to feel actual sunshine on their skin again. The sun lamps never could replace the feeling of the actual sun.

  A few others stood toward the back, eyes warily scanning the crowd in front of them.

  “I can't wait to make chocolate chip cookies again, that's what I missed the most.” My friend, Marla, stood beside me, hands clasped together and bouncing with nervous excitement. She was just waiting to exit as soon as she could. “Though it's not worth getting trampled to get there, is it? I guess we will