Weeks passed in a blur of work, gym, eating just enough to sustain us, and sleeping. An unspoken tension settled over everyone in the New Year. We had no idea what the DRI were up to, that I knew of, and the waiting stirred up a sense of unrest. I was antsy with the slowness of my job and being stuck underground, so I volunteered to help with other things.
“You’re welcome to help with cleaning,” Top told me after dinner one night. I must have glared because he chuckled. “What did you have in mind, Miss Tate?”
I craved fresh air and sunlight, but I knew sunshine was out of the question. “Maybe I could help on night watch? Up in the tower with Sergeant Mahalchick?”
“It’s freezing aboveground, you know.”
Oh, yeah. Freaking winter. Remy said it was evil out there. She got to be in the outdoors for the two seconds it took to run from the bunker doors to the greenhouse during her shifts. It was funny to see her dressed in all black with her hair shoved in a black beanie like a bank robber or something.
I shrugged like it wouldn’t bother me. Like I was Elsa.
He chewed the inside of his lip and exhaled. “Even the watchers have to be armed and ready to defend, if necessary.”
“I know how to shoot, sir. I work well under pressure. Ask my brother.”
He thought a moment longer. “I’ll see if I can work you into a rotation for training, but you’ll still need to be on call for med emergencies.”
“Of course,” I said. “Thank you!” Day. Made.
Four days later I was bundled up so well I was sweating as I followed Mark to the meeting point at the bunker entrance we originally came in. It was ten at night. The biggest, heaviest gun I’d ever held was slung over my shoulder. I’d spent the last three days learning how to use it. Mark and I met in the hall with two other guys in winter gear who nodded at us, and didn’t seem surprised by my presence. I followed them up the concrete steps at the end of the hall with Mark behind me, and I felt nervous when the door sentry lifted open the hatch to the outdoors.
A crunching sound came as the guys marched out. Ice had formed in places where snow had been trampled down and refrozen. I paused as I stared out at the white blanket covering everything. It appeared serene and peaceful. Mark gave me a gentle nudge from behind and I moved forward. The effort it took to lift my legs with each step reminded me of our trek to the base, and I was glad we didn’t have to go far.
I followed them to the watch tower where we climbed the stairs. My face was cold, but the rest of me stayed warm. The watch tower was dark and old, slightly creaky. I marveled when I faced the long window and saw everything. The hotel outside of the base, which appeared completely dark and deserted, the greenhouse inside the base, the never-ending acres of solar panels, the nearby bumps where “rocks” sat with soldiers hiding within—all softened by layers of snow. The moon and starlight shone off the surface like white glass that stretched as far as the eye could see.
I wanted to say something about how pretty it was, but the others seemed used to it, so I admired in silence. They showed me the ropes: the walkie-talkies, the button to push to send an alert to Top, and the major alert button that would sound an alarm to the entire bunker. And then we each took a side of the square room and stationed ourselves to look out with binoculars. It took all my self-control not to stare up at the sky, which I hadn’t seen in so long. I missed it. Instead, I kept a steady watch on the horizon where the dark sky met the land. After ten minutes I was thoroughly bored, which shamed me because it was an important job. It was only the fear that DRI could come into sight at any moment that kept my eyes focused.
And focused.
And still focused.
After four hours I started to shiver a little. There was no heat in the tower.
“Amber, right?” said one of the guys.
I blinked and swung my head, but he was staring intently out his window through his binoculars, so I turned back to my own and refocused. “Yeah?”
“Got your eye on any of the guys here?”
Mark snorted and my face flushed with heat. Actually, I’d met most everyone in the bunker by now, and several soldiers had tried to hit on me, but obviously I wasn’t having that.
“Noneya,” I said, making all three of them laugh.
And now that the silence had been broken, an easy banter began, with each of us intently watching our zones. It helped pass the time and settle my jitters. Being out here was cool, but it was impossible not to feel exposed and vulnerable. Just the thought of a fighter jet whizzing over that horizon toward us gave me the chills.
“How about your friend, Remy?” the other guy asked.
“She’s sort of taking a break from everything,” I told him.
“Why?” he asked.
I really didn’t want to talk about it. After the grief counseling sessions I’d attended, I avoided talking serious at any cost.
“She lost her parents on Christmas, and . . . you know. She needs time. Next subject.”
“Damn,” he whispered. “Sucks.”
That killed the convo for a while. Finally we saw movement at the bunker entrance; the next shift of watchers were coming out. I breathed a sigh of relief, but kept my eyes on the horizon until the next group entered the room to relieve us.
I gulped down as much fresh, cold air as I could and watched the stars as I tramped through the crunching snow, back into the depths of our safe haven.
