Apophis by Eliza Lentzski Read Free Book Online Page B

received government contracts to retrofit an underground facility,” the man revealed. “When the government realized what was happening to the earth’s climate, they reopened an old, underground bunker from World War II.  Roosevelt had had it commissioned as part of the Manhattan Project as a precaution to nuclear warfare.  My company was responsible for turning it into a living space,” he continued. “And as reward for our secrecy, there was a lottery for spaces inside.”
    “Where is it?” my father demanded.
    The other man shook his head.  “If I tell you, you’ll just leave us or kill us.  But I can take you there.”
    My father always played it safe.  That had been his job at the bank for thirty-some years – to weigh the pros and cons, to analyze the risk involved in trusting others.  He’d kept our family stationary while the rest of the planet scrambled over one another to gobble up the world’s remaining resources.  He wasn’t a risk-taker.  But now, with seemingly nothing left to lose, he was hesitating.  My father seemed to actually be mulling over this man’s story.
    I looked over at the man and the younger woman.  I didn’t trust them.  I didn’t trust anyone.  I’d heard of Eden, but we’d all thought it was a legend like alligators in the sewers.  It seemed too calculating, too cruel, that our government would have created such a place and then left the majority of us to fend for ourselves.  I thought this man must be trying to take advantage of my father’s current desperate mindset.
    “Ok.”
    I was sure I’d misheard my dad.
    “You’re not serious,” I blurted out. “Dad, we don’t know them,” I said, waving my hands at my sides.
    “Samantha.” My father’s tone let me know this wasn’t up for discussion.  I wasn’t used to him making decisions for me.  Ever since he’d shaken me awake when bandits raided our home, he’d taken on the sole leadership role. I was an adult; shouldn’t I have some say about if we allied ourselves with these strangers? 
    “That cut looks pretty bad,” my grandmother observed, sidling up next to the salt-and-pepper man.  “Mind if I take a look at it?”  She removed the first-aid kit from her backpack.  It wasn’t much – a few Band-Aids, cotton balls, and iodine.  If any of us got seriously injured, we’d be in trouble. 
    She dipped a cotton ball into the iodine and began to rub away at the blood that had dried on the man’s forehead. “What happened?” she asked him.
    The man winced as she continued to dab at the open wound. “We’d just run out of gas,” he said.  “I was planning on ditching the car and walking until we found some gasoline or another car with gas in the tank, but just as I was opening the door, those two men attacked us.  They both had crowbars and started bashing the car, breaking the windows and hitting the side panels.”
    “They hit you with a crowbar?” my grandma gasped.
    “No.  I think the car door clipped me in the head when I was trying to get out and they slammed it shut on me.”
    My grandma nodded sagely.  “Well, it’s certainly a good thing we came along when we did.”
    The man breathed out deeply.  “That’s for sure.  I’m Jerry West,” he introduced himself.  “And this is my daughter, Nora.”
    “Rosemary Poulsen, but you just call me Rosie,” my grandma said with a wink.  “That tall drink of water over there is my son, Brandon, and that’s my granddaughter, Samantha.”
    “It’s nice to meet you all,” the man said with a brief smile and a cough.
    “I wonder how those men found you,” my dad thought out loud.  “We’re in the middle of nowhere.  Usually bandits stick to the cities where there’s more resources.”
    “Maybe the cities are drying up, too,” I suggested.  “Maybe they’re widening their territories because they’re getting more desperate.”
    “We should get moving,” my dad said, frowning.  I think he realized