Stash

Tanner’s footsteps disturbed the dust on the discolored tiles, scattering years of accumulation into the air The motes caught the watery sunlight that struggled through the planks barring the broken in windows.

The state of the lobby implied the building had long ago been stripped of anything worth having, but Tanner was hopeful. He looked down, the light of the sun catching on the goggles of his gas mask as he regarded the map in his hand. Supposedly, there was a shelter below; a treasure trove that would keep his settlement alive for several winters.

He moved slowly as he left the protection of the sunlight, careful to make little noise save the swishing of his poncho and hissing of his respirator. This area of the ruins was supposedly safe, but all the same there was a reason nobody came this far in. Even the trader Tanner had bought the map from claimed to only have come by it from another scout, and that one had it from before the disaster. All the same, supplies running scarce as they were, the potential prize was too great to bypass.

As Tanner reached the bank of elevators at the rear of the lobby, he slid his pry bar from his belt, jammed it home between a set of sliding doors and, with a grunt, forced them apart just enough to squeeze through. The shaft was pitch dark, but at least the car wasn’t stopped on the main floor.

He slid his pack from his back and crouched down, then rummaged about inside until he found a glowstick. Cracking it and giving it a quick shake, he dropped it down the shaft, watching it fall and illuminate the walls as it descended before landing about twenty feet below. Tanner nodded to himself and secured his pack before slinging it over his shoulders.

He stood, reaching out and taking a tight grip on the rusted steel cable that even now held the car above in place. Stepping out into the abyss, he locked his feet around the cable and slid down into the darkness, leather hissing on metal as he slipped down toward the dim, eerie green that was to be his lifeline.

He landed with a crunch, disturbing another layer of dust and the bones of small creatures that had at one point sought shelter at the bottom of the shaft, thinking it might be their salvation. He reached down, carefully plucking the glowstick from beside a discolored skull, before straightening and getting a look around.

The elevator doors stood a foot off the ground, ajar, stretching into what looked like an underground parking garage, cavernous and empty.
Tanner’s respirator hissed as he strained his eyes, trying to catch sight of something – anything – beyond the range of his light.

Nothing. He sighed and moved to the doors, tossing the glowstick ahead of him. For a brief moment, he thought he saw something skitter away and his heart skipped a beat. He tightened his grip on his pry bar, waiting. Nothing moved in the dim light. He hoisted himself up past the doors and advanced slowly, looking all about in the dark.

Something wasn’t right. He should be alone. Nothing lived in the ruins, not even wild animals any more. Yet, every sense told him he wasn’t alone. Even the sound of his respirator seemed deafening, like it might attract some horrible mutant from the blackness. He moved forward, stooping to grab the glowstick as he walked by, advancing deeper.

As he moved through the sub-basement, concrete support columns loomed out of the dark like unmarked tombstones marking the forgotten graves of the world that had come before. Signs, paint worn and metal rusted, may once have carried warnings and cautions to those who moved about down here, but now with nobody left who had ever read them, their message was lost to the ancient past.

Tanner stopped and moved to squat beside a column, shrugging off his pack and pulling out the map. “Basement B” read the faded ink on the map, and the faint ghost of pencil lines guided the path to the supposed shelter that lay even further below. One… two… three columns… a left… then-

Something hit the ground a hundred feet ahead of Tanner in the dark, heavy and metallic. He bolted upright, pry bar raised as he peered into the dark.  He heard footfalls running away, but as they grew faint, he heard something coming toward him. A metal can rolled into the light of the glowstick On it, the happy face of a golden retriever salivated over a bowl of unidentifiable meat chunks in glistening gravy.

Tanner hesitated and listened. It had to be a trap. The can was practically brand new. His stomach growled, making the decision for him. He crouched, stretching out his arm and scooping it toward him with the pry bar. Once in range, he grabbed it and turned it over in his hands. It looked intact. Hell, it didn’t even have any rust. He settled back down, crossing his legs and digging a can opener from his pack.

It was the first time his stomach had been full in months. He was tempted to sleep, but that was how less experienced scouts died in the ruins. He rose, looking at the map once more before grabbing the glowstick and shouldering his pack. He pressed on, further into the underground bunker. Shortly, he came to place indicated on the map. Four columns, painted with faded red and yellow stripes, surrounded a square of concrete split in four equal sections.

Tanner’s heart sank. The map had said nothing about how to open the shelter. He looked back toward where he had entered. Perhaps it would be better to give up, or to get some men from the settlement to help. That would take time, though, and leave them without defenses. Raiding season was coming, and it was two days just to reach the settlement from here.

As he considered, he paced around the outline of the divisions. It was obvious where the sections interlocked, and here and there were deep holes that might have been manual releases, if he only had the right tool. He tried them with his pry bar to no effect. He crouched down, sighing in frustration.

He heard footsteps again. He looked up quickly, and a girl, nude as the day she was born and pale as a ghost, stepped into the light of the glowstick. The chemical light made her look green, her white eyes almost luminescent. Tanner’s muscles clenched in shock. She was unarmed, no respirator, no gear. How the hell was she alive out here?

She tilted her head at him, considering him for a long moment, then turned, hurrying out of the light. Just before she vanished, she turned, looking back at him as if waiting. Every instinct Tanner had told him not to follow, to kill this alien thing and forget he ever bought the stupid map, but somebody living like this, out here, could mean something. Besides, she was better looking than any of the settlement women.

He rose, and moved after her.