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If they didn’t leave, they’d both be dead soon.

She gathered herself and stood on her own. “Okay,” she mumbled.

Peter grabbed his gear, and they began to run down the corridor until they reached another push-bar entrance, only this one didn’t have an alarm. Seconds later, they emerged from the mall into the cool, smoky air, gasping for breath.

The young woman didn’t hesitate. She rushed off into the darkness without Peter. Despite the blood gushing out of her forehead, she was able to run on her own and easily outpaced Peter as he lugged the duffel bags along with his backpacks. They stayed close to the wall of Dick’s Sporting Goods and then found themselves in the middle of the parking lot. Peter didn’t like the lack of cover, but the pitch blackness that surrounded him prevented their pursuers from seeing them standing in the middle of the predominantly empty space.

“Follow me,” she said in a loud whisper, followed by a coughing fit. Some of her blood sprayed on Peter’s shirt and arms. The young woman took the lead, and he scrambled to match her pace. Behind him, he heard excited voices shouting to one another near the mall entrance. There was no time to ask questions. He simply hustled to keep up.

Despite her head injury, she was much faster. Within a minute, she’d crossed the ring road around the mall and disappeared into a stand of leafless trees that two days prior had been filled with beautiful fall colors of orange, yellow, and red. Now they were symbolic of the dead landscape that surrounded them.

Chapter Fifteen

Saturday, October 26

Placer High School

Auburn, California

The nearly two hundred inhabitants of the bunker beneath Placer High School erupted into a chaotic shit storm. The chivalrous concept of women and children first that dated back to the sinking of the HMS Birkenhead in 1852 had been abandoned in modern times. Chivalry was dead, resulting in the women and children to be the first people knocked down as the occupants of the bunker rushed for the only exit.

Screams of panic and agony barely covered the sounds of bodies being trampled. Fingers and hands were broken as the heavy feet of the mostly male refugees stomped their way toward the front of the bunker.

The crush of humanity forced Lacey against the wall, causing her to call out for her husband, who was barely three feet away. Owen tried to reach her, but he was shoved off in another direction.

“Mom! I’m coming!”

Tucker became enraged, as he thought his mom would be hurt. He forced his way past two large men by elbowing one in the chin and grabbing another by the shoulder to pull him backwards.

People were clawing and tugging at one another in an effort to be the first near the door. Somewhere in the back of the bunker, the police officer was furiously blowing his whistle to regain order, to no avail.

Expletives were hurled and fights broke out as loved ones tried to help those who’d been knocked down, only to be shoved to the concrete floor with them. It was humankind at its worst.

“Open the door!”

“They can’t, moron! Everybody’s in the way!”

The whistle wailed continuously as the tall coach led the officer along the wall toward the front. Men’s voices were heard shouting instructions and threats. Women plead for help. The elderly begged for air. Children cried. A broad range of emotions permeated the air.

And the smoky odor continued to enter the space. Soon, the occupants’ eyes began to water, and many coughed reflexively as the scant amount of oxygen became mixed with the impure carbon particles resulting from soot.

Finally, Owen was able to wedge himself between two men who pressed their burly bodies toward the door, effectively crushing Lacey against the wall. Tucker was using his arms and upper body strength to hold them away from his slightly built mom. He’d calmed down after he was able to shield her from the initial crush of bodies.

The McDowell family was together once again after being caught off guard by the sudden panic. However, they too were suffering from lack of oxygen and the rise in the temperature within the bunker.

“Dad, is the place burning down? It’s so hot in here.”

Owen looked toward the door and ceiling. He lifted his shirt over his face and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I really think it would be worse if the gym was on fire.”

“Owen,” began Lacey, “maybe we shouldn’t go out?”

“Mom, we can’t breathe in here.”

“But it might be better if half these people leave,” suggested Lacey.

The whistle grew louder in the roar of human despair, indicating the coach and the officer were getting closer.

“What are we gonna do?” asked Tucker as he was forcibly shoved into his mom, causing him to spin around, ready to fight back.

“I say we take our chances outside. At least we can make decisions for ourselves.”

“Stand back!” shouted the coach.

“Make room for them to get to the door!” a man in the crowd hollered.

Each member of the McDowell family was now forced against the concrete wall with strangers’ bodies pressed against them. The coach was pushing his way past, making matters worse.

“It’s almost over,” Owen said to his family, trying to offer words of reassurance.

He was right in one respect. The coach and police officer worked together to turn the mechanical locks to release the protective seal and unlock the door. However, as the blast door was opened, a whole new problem presented itself. Dozens of people had remained in the stairwell outside the door, and they wanted in.

Those inside the bunker expected a rush of fresh air and an opening to escape the smell of smoke. Instead, they were greeted with the full brunt of the soot-filled air and others who were trying to gain entry. The unstoppable force paradox was on full display as those on the outside, the immovable object, stood ready to enter the bunker, while those frightened souls on the inside, the unstoppable

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