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she asked Tristan when he cut the engine.

“I’m taking the key,” he said and explained where he hid the other in the back bumper in case they needed it. “I don’t think anyone’s been down this road in a while. Not a single set of tracks in or out. It’s been weeks, I bet.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed.

“I’m not sure what we’re walking into, so be careful,” he said to them. “If this is a bunker, he could have tripwires, traps, anything. Sounded like this creep had already been living like the apocalypse hit years ago.”

“A bunker you say?” Elijah asked.

“Yeah, a couple shipping containers welded together and buried in the side of the hill somewhere. Guess the only thing you can see is the door.”

“Yikes,” Elijah said in an alarmed tone.

“Just be careful. Let’s take this one slow,” Tristan said. “He may even have cameras, a generator, anything. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

“How many are supposed to be here?”

“Not sure. Jeff said it was him and a few relatives, but he wasn’t sure who all was still alive or if they died of the flu.”

“Got it,” Roman said.

They exited the truck quietly and shut their doors even more quietly. She stuck by Roman’s side. Their shoes crunched loudly on the ice-crusted snow. With every step they took, there was a delayed reaction of breaking through the icy layer on top to where they plopped down through into the softer powder. It was nerve-racking and noisy.

Down the lane they went, two by two, and sometimes single file when they couldn’t see whether or not there was even a driveway there. Eventually, they came to a gate, nothing fancy or electronic. It was more like something a person would use just to keep out traffic. Tristan walked around it into the woods and signaled for them to follow. He stayed in the tree line like that, and they did, as well, as they followed him another hundred or so yards. Then he stopped and squatted onto his haunches and peered silently.

Roman turned her chin slightly, and she finally saw what they must’ve seen before her. This was it. This was the man’s bunker. There weren’t lights of any kind coming from it, either. No security lamps illuminated any of the grounds. It was just pitch dark, noiseless, and spooky. It was the kind of place she would’ve walked right past and not even noticed because of the way it was concealed in the side of the hill. There were even bushes on top of it and probably dirt and grass deep under the snow on the roof. An older model car was parked near the entrance. Nothing else, no barking dogs, no other vehicles or even a cart, trailer, or wheelbarrow.

They squatted there for a while as Tristan considered their next move.

“Think there’s a back entrance?” Elijah whispered.

“Not sure,” he said. “I can’t see one from here, but watch for tripwires on the way in. They could be buried in the snow. Roman, you and Jane head over to the left of the bunker. We’ll come in from the right.”

“Yes, sir.”

She rose with him and walked slowly, carefully behind Roman single file through the woods. When they came to the driveway again, he moved in a stooped over fashion that she mimicked. They crossed it and kept going. They made it to the building and waited for Tristan and Elijah.

Once they were in position, Tristan tried the door and found it locked. He frowned. She could see his disappointed expression even in the dark.

Roman held his hands up as if to say, ‘now what?’

“Wait here,” Tristan whispered and went over to the car.

They watched and waited while Tristan opened the car door and squatted beside it as he searched around inside. He waved his hand to show them, a set of keys jingling.

“Good,” Elijah whispered with a sigh.

Suddenly, loud gunfire erupted, and Roman was shoving her down and dragging her into the nearby woods again but on the opposite side of the driveway this time. Elijah was right behind them. Once there, Roman spun and blasted off a few rounds towards the bunker. Tristan was pinned at the car, unable to get over to them or into the woods on his side of the driveway. Bullets kept pinging off of the vehicle.

“Damnit,” Elijah said and also fired his weapon towards the bunker, which seemed ineffectual.

“We need to take that out, whoever it is,” Roman said. “I can’t see shit.”

“Me, neither,” Elijah agreed as more gunfire blasted through the quiet of the night.

“There!” she exclaimed too loudly and lowered her volume. “It’s coming from back there, Roman.”

“I see,” he said. “We gotta take him out.”

She could see the muzzle flash of a rifle coming from inside the hill. It was literally coming out of the hill, surrounded by snow and what looked like muddy leaf piles. The inside of the bunker must’ve had heat because a lot of the snow on the mounded earth over it was melted in sections. That’s where the muzzle flash was coming from. No wonder they were not hitting anything. This person was shooting from a secure, secret place somewhere inside the building. It reminded her of those concrete bunkers the Nazis built on the beaches that were so impenetrable during WWII. She’d watched documentaries on it, which she’d found interesting but sad at the same time.

“I think I can get up there,” Roman told them. “Cover me.”

“Wait, you can’t go out there,” Jane said quickly and grabbed his arm.

“Tristan’s pinned down,” he argued. “We gotta help him.”

“We’ll cover you, Roman,” Elijah offered with a firm nod of confidence she didn’t share.

He took off in the deep snow and circled the bunker through the woods. This sick man who had bought a young girl- or woman or however old she was- had built himself a bunker to hide out and do what he wanted without a care for the rest of the world or the law. He

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