Page 94 of A Light in the Darkness

“Yup.” Rich nods. “A lot of them.”

‘A lot of them’ ended up being sixteen—I count them on the way down. The staircase is wide despite the space above being cramped, so I stick to one side of it without running my hands along it lest I encounter one of those damn spiders Michael mentioned.

When we reach the bottom, there’s a little click, and it takes approximately two seconds before a light blooms on over our heads. I look up to see the fluorescent bars, which look woefully out of place.

But for the first time since we left the jet, we can see our surroundings in their entirety. We’re in an expansive space, which is decidedly not the mine—the walls here are smooth steel, grey and depressing and creepy as hell.

“Where the fuck are we?” Rich asks, turning around to take it all in.

“A bunker.” Remy answers, without hesitation, his eyes sweeping the space for something.

“Abunker?” I’ve heard the term somewhere, but I can’t place what exactly it is… or what it means for us.

“Like a fallout shelter.”

The new voice makes me jump, and as I turn to look for the source, I sigh a heavy breath of relief.

“Fuck. Kent?”

Behind him, I see Michael and Rook, both looking around as they try to assess the place.

“Both routes led here?” Rich asks, skeptical.

“Apparently. I could tell we were headed underground, but we just followed a single path the whole way here.”

“If it’s a shelter, why is it empty?” Michael asks.

“Because the real shelter is on the other side.” Remy says, nodding at the expanse of steel opposite the stairs.

“How do you know this?” Rook asks, dubious.

That gets a laugh out of Remy, who shakes his head. “There are three things wealthy men are obsessed with.”

“Hot women?” Michael guesses.

“Power.” Rich nods.

“And the preservation of themselves above all else.” Kent surmises, earning a solemn nod from Remy.

“Humans are obsessed with survival… particularly of the elite.” He looks like he’s tasted something rotten, but he continues. “Nuclear fallout shelters seemed like the only answer during war times, but if you’re rich enough, you’re always at war.”

“We breed our soldiers.”It’s supposed to be a thought, but it comes off my tongue instead, and Remy looks at me, startled. But he nods all the same.

I want to give him a hug, because the look on his face is so sad, so broken that I regret letting it slip. But Michael asks, “So how do we get in?” and that’s enough to snap him out of whatever nasty memory he’s lingering in.

“You don’t.” Kent guesses, glancing at Remy for confirmation. “That’s the whole point of fallout shelter. To keep you safe in the event of nuclear fallout.”

“So, you’re telling me you can’t get in or out?” Michael asks. “That makes no sense.”

“You can get out.” Remy says, working hard to avoid Kent’s gaze. His eyes find mine, instead. “But you can’t get in.”

“Someone has to let us in?” Rich cocks his head, looking for any sort of door to knock upon.

“So… we’re done?” Rook shakes his head, trying to grasp what this means for us. “This is the end of the line?”

“We’re sitting ducks right now.” Remy swivels his head and finds whatever he’s looking for. He tips his head, very subtly, behind him. My eyes and Kent’s follow the path to the camera blinking in the corner.

I have to swallow to abate the swell of nausea inside of me as the sudden realization of the red light takes me back to Evan Ludlow’s basement.