We stepped into the bunker, and immediately light lit up above us. I clicked the torchlight off, stuffing it into one of the slots in my tactical vest, and looked over the scene before us. The walls, despite their metallic nature, had obviously once been painted a pristine white, and patches of the paint still clung to areas of the walls. But the walls themselves were cracked and rusted in many places, with pipes exposed by their gaps. Occasional drops of water echoed through the walkway, falling from small rusted-through holes above.
The lighting of the corridor flickered and struggled, making me wonder if they weren’t right on the edge of failure. As we strolled forward, I noticed old tech security cameras hanging loosely from the ceiling, their bodies brown and cracked, their lenses non-existent. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and musk, mingled with the faint smell of something chemical.
We moved deeper, coming to an intersection, a sign hanging from the ceiling above us. An arrow to the left indicated ‘RESIDENCES’ while an arrow to the right was marked ‘HYDROELECTRIC CENTER’ and a third arrow pointed forward, delineating the direction as ‘ALL OTHER FUNCTIONS’.
“So, where are we heading, Techlock?” I asked.
Part of me desperately wanted to check out the residences and see what happened here and why it was abandoned. I had a feeling that the good scavenge was elsewhere, though, and Tech would know that.
“Let’s push ahead,” he said after a half-minute’s worth of thinking. “We can check hydro on the way out, but I’m guessing the stuff there will be too heavy or high value to be carried out and sold properly.”
We walked in silence, observing the place and trying to imagine what it must have been like in the days of old. Despite what the directions on the previous sign had noted, we passed a short row of residences, their doors all open to sight. Within lay lightless interiors that, when brightened by my torchlight, were shown to hold rotted and cracked beds, lockers, and a scattered mess of personal belongings obviously left behind by the bunker's original occupants. The beds were rusted and the mattresses disintegrating, but they hinted at the lives once lived here.
Hitting another junction, we spied a communal area straight ahead, with another sign indicating we could find medical attention to the right or meet the overseer on the left. We peeked into the cafeteria, its stuttering lights showing overturned tables and chairs, as well as floor stains that might have been coffee or blood. A large, cracked screen on the far wall bore the name US Civ Corps XI, and a few broken game consoles were scattered across the floor, their wires frayed and tangled.
“Med bay,” Techlock grunted. “Let’s go.”
We turned, moving up to the medical bay. The lights in the corridor shone brighter and were evidently in better shape than the others we’d seen thus far.
The floor was damper, the air more humid, and a thick slimy musk filled the air. Techlock and I exchanged a glance.
“Something here isn’t right,” I whispered.
Techlock slipped his hand to his dagger belt, arming himself and I followed suit. Turning a corner in the corridor, we came in sight of the med-bay and saw that the door to it was halfway open, a faint, flickering light coming from within. I tightened my grip on the torchlight and dagger, ready for anything.
Techlock positioned himself to my left, his own dagger held up in two hands.
“Ready?”
I nodded, stepping forward slowly and with as little sound as I could muster. Pushing the door open the rest of the way, I shone my light over it and checked the surroundings. The equipment inside was all advanced old tech, and rusty but some of the dials and bulbs still flickering with life. Rows of medical beds lined the walls, many of them overturned or broken. Cabinets hung open, their contents spilled across the floor.
Techlock stepped in behind me just as a low, guttural growl echoed through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. I swung the torchlight in the direction of the sound, revealing a corner shrouded in shadow. The beam of light caught a glimpse of movement, something large and misshapen lurking just out of sight.
“Techlock,” I said quietly, “we're not alone.”
He nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room.
“From the smell, I didn’t expect we would be. There have been tales of mutants and monsters in these bunkers. Some run away, but some of them fight. Be ready.”
Suddenly, the creature lunged from the shadows, its form grotesque and twisted. It was once human, that much was clear, but now it was a horrifying amalgamation of flesh and mutation. Its skin was mottled and leathery, stretched taut over protruding bones. Glowing yellow eyes stared at us with a mix of hunger and rage.
I barely had time to react as it charged, its claws swiping at me. I dodged to the side, shining the torchlight directly into its eyes, hoping to blind it. Techlock moved in quickly, slashing at the creature with his dagger. The blade cut into its flesh, but the beast barely seemed to notice, driven by a primal fury.
I racked my brain for a solution, remembering the old tech I had seen scattered around. My eyes darted to a defunct medical console on the wall. “Techlock, keep it busy!” I shouted.
He nodded, engaging the creature with swift, agile movements, buying me the precious seconds I needed. I sprinted to the console, yanking off the back panel and exposing a tangle of wires. My hands worked quickly, stripping wires and reconfiguring the circuit. Sparks flew, and the console hummed to life.
The creature turned its attention to me, sensing the disruption. It roared, charging me. Just as it was about to come in striking distance, I hit a final switch, directing a powerful electrical surge into the puddle of water between Techlock and me. The creature convulsed, its body wracked with electricity. It collapsed, twitching and smoking, before finally falling still.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Techlock joined me, breathing heavily.
“Brilliant job, Alaric. But how’d you know that we wouldn’t get fried also?”
“Rubber suits,” I panted, patting myself on the chest.
He chuckled.
“Yeah, makes sense. I never would have thought of it, though. You’ve got a good head on you.”
I nodded, my heart pounding in my throat and even my ears ringing.
“Thanks. But I don’t need praise right now. There might be more around. Let's get moving and stay alert.”
We scanned the room, and sure enough, another mutated figure lurked near the far corner. This one was slightly smaller but no less threatening. I grabbed a nearby metal tray and quickly fashioned it into a makeshift shield, using it to deflect the creature's swipes while Techlock prepared to move in and strike.
“Over here, you ugly brute!” I shouted, drawing the creature's attention to me.
It charged, and I braced myself, the impact pushing me back but I held firm. Techlock slipped behind it, slashing at its legs and bringing it to the ground.
Seizing the moment, I used the remnants of the electrical trap, pulled the creature toward its dead friend, and dropped the wires into the puddle. It fried the creature, but the electricity disappeared. Must have been a breaker I guessed.
Breathing heavily, Techlock and I exchanged a glance of relief.
“Let's find what we need and get out of here,” Techlock said, his voice steady but urgent. “This place is more dangerous than I thought.”
I stared at him from behind my goggles.
“You’ve never scavenged a new bunker before, have you?”
“Nah. But don’t get caught up on that. This is going to be well worth the trip, just wait and see. And I’ve got you here. We may be two first-timers, but we’re first-timers with skills!”
I laughed, looking around the bay for more of the beasties. There was a door at the far end that led deeper into the medical section, and next to it, I saw a computer whose green power lights gleamed and beckoned. Techlock moved to the terminal and began typing, his fingers flying over the keys with practiced ease.
“The network is still online, despite a partial power outage,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “I’m pulling up the directions to the storage room.”
As he worked, I peered over his shoulder and noticed a section labeled Journal on the screen. My curiosity piqued, and I tapped Techlock on the shoulder.
“Hey, can you open up that journal section? Maybe we can figure out what happened to this place.”
He hesitated, his fingers pausing mid-typing.
“We should focus on the storage room,” he said, though his tone lacked conviction.
“Just a quick look,” I urged. “It might give us some insight. Come on.”
With a reluctant sigh, Techlock nodded and navigated to the journal entries. The screen filled with lines of text, the first entry dated from a time that must have been a thousand years ago. We began to read, the terminal’s screen casting a pale glow over our faces.
* * * * * * * * * *
Journal Entry 1:
Date: March 23, 2124
Today we engaged with enemy forces at the dam. Counter-artillery kept most of their missiles from hitting us, but enough managed to get through that most of the hydro-generators are offline. We’ll definitely have our work cut out for us to get power rolling again. The aliens are tough, but we’re tougher. I saw a bit of the battle. X-7 mechs from the 3rd ACR rushed in to help push back their attack, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a battle near so epic. They left!
There might be a problem, though. Some of the super soldier mutagens cracked and infected local staff. We’ve administered limiters and blockers post-exposure, but it's not the way these things are supposed to be done and I’m not sure what will come of it.
We’ve alerted all the personnel and civilians of the facility and made preparations to leave and seal the base behind us if the afflicted lose their minds. With the dam down, we might not be needed here anyway. Signing out. God help us all.
* * * * * * * * * *
We exchanged a look of shock and disbelief.
Mutagen?
Techlock scrolled through a few more entries, each one detailing the deteriorating situation. The mutations grew worse, the once-human inhabitants of the bunker turning into monstrous beings driven by primal instincts. The final entry was particularly haunting.
* * * * * * * * * *
Journal Entry 7:
Date: April 15, 2124
We’ve lost control. The mutated personnel are attacking anyone on sight. We can’t stay here any longer. I’m ordering the last remaining civilians to evacuate. Enemy forces have been spotted in the area anyway — let them find the bunker and deal with the mess. I feel bad about leaving them like this, but with Washington nuked we’ve lost comms to HQ, and it seems likely we’ll be needed elsewhere. This is Dr. Murphy, signing off.
* * * * * * * * * *
The screen went dark as Techlock closed the journal, his expression somber.
“That mutagen… it turned the people here into those creatures we just fought. No wonder this place was abandoned.”
I nodded, my mind racing with thoughts of the pre-apocalypse world.
“They were fighting the alien enemy and dealing with experimental tech beyond our understanding. It’s incredible how advanced they were, and terrifying what happened because of it.”
Techlock stared at the console, then opened a search program. As I watched, he typed the word ‘mutagen’ into its bar.
* * * * * * * * * *
Terminal Entry:
Date: April 1, 2124
Mutagen X02 accidental release has given us ample opportunity to observe its effects in the field. It has failed in many critical ways. Instead of enhancing physical and cognitive abilities, it has warped the DNA of subjects, apparently combining them with natural DNA samples found in the local water supply. This would have been controlled had the mutagen been administered with appropriate blockers and limiters beforehand. However, administering them after exposure has proven to have had no effect.
Critically, the mutation that our colleagues are still undergoing has proven to be communicable; a scratch or bite from one of their kind can spread the mutation to other humans. We still hope to find a cure, but preparations have been made to move everyone out if things become untenable.
* * * * * * * * * *
Techlock returned to the search bar, this time typing ‘mutagen where?’
“What are you looking that up for?” I asked, surprised.
“Might be a low-weight high-pay scavenge, Alaric. Definitely worth finding.”
The terminal buzzed, displaying a map of the bunker with several key areas highlighted. Techlock scanned the entries quickly, his eyes lighting up as he found what he was looking for.
“Here we go,” he said, pointing to a section marked ‘Laboratory Storage’ in a lower level of the bunker. “The remaining mutagen samples are stored here. It’s a restricted area, likely containing other valuable old tech.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “Fine. Let’s get the loot and get out of here. This place is starting to give me the skin prickles.”