>Emergency Alert. This is not a drill. Heavy loss of life expected. Proceed to your nearest emergency bunker or shelter in place. This is not a drill.

What the fuck?

My eyes ran over the message again to be sure that I had read it correctly. The sender was unrecognized and there was no way to reply. It didn’t seem to be spam or some kind of prank, despite my thundering heartbeat hoping this wasn’t what it looked like.

Even though I didn’t actually know what it looked like. Nothing good.

While adrenaline ran through me, I looked over at Bernie to see how he was taking the news. He was squinting at his phone, clearly at a loss without reading glasses. I exhaled through my nose to calm my nerves before speaking to him.

“Here, let me look.” I held out my bandaged hand, and he placed it there without argument. I was usually a lot snappier when stressed, but I wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt if I started being a bitch to Bernie.

Half of the message was off the bottom of the screen due to his phone being smaller and the font much larger, but it said the exact same thing as mine. No indication whether this was a warning just for the city area, state, or the whole country.

As I started to feel out of my depth, I hand the phone back over.

“Something terrible, dear?” His eyebrows were raised, anticipating the bad news that he could clearly read from my expression.

“There’s something… we need to go to a bunker to be safe.” Safe from what, though? Was there a storm on the way that I hadn’t noticed on the news? We had heard that rumble, but surely not - otherwise the other diner patrons would have said something. My thoughts briefly went to the two still there. I wasn’t in the market for making friends, but they seemed like genuinely good people. Few and far between in my life.

The sky looked clear, so inclement weather didn’t fit the bill. Was it war? A nuclear attack? Perhaps a wild leap to assume that after thinking it was a storm, but my paranoia had spiked, the text message somehow managing to be something worse than I had expected.

“I’m not sure where any bunkers are,” Bernie said, his eyes scanning the darkness around us. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have stayed out so late today.”

“I’ll… keep you safe, Bernie.” It probably didn’t sound as convincing I had hoped. Rather than spiral around with my thoughts again, I brought up my phone, hoping it had answers rather than further problems for me.

The reception indicator ticked down before signaling it was completely inert, as if my glare had caused the problem. No internet or emergency network. There was a notification that caused me to furrow my brow. I hadn’t even seen it pop up - but swiping it down revealed it to be something telling me the Map application had been updated.

I opened it up to find that the usual satellite imagery had been replaced by something very basic. Only the current road was present, the diner and any other landmarks not shown. Aside from the white line of our route through the gray of the desert area, there was only one other thing I could see. A bunker.

“Looks like we have a destination,” I informed the man, although I was mostly trying to reassure myself. It was out west from here, in the arid area. “Best hold on, hun. It’ll be a rough ride.”

“Duck and cover,” he murmured in an almost pavlovian response. Despite looking even more out of place and unsure as to what was going on, he gripped at the furnishing of the van to keep stable.

I felt bad for him. What had been a mischevious treat in staying out later than normal had turned into being near kidnapped by a mysterious and grouchy woman, intending to take him out to an unknown building in the desert where the world might end. Well, I didn’t know it was that dire yet, but this was certainly more than he had bargained for.

Placing my phone on the magnetic holder on the dash, I turned the keys to get us out of here. The van whirred, and the engine turned over, but it didn’t start up. A second twist and it spluttered, failing again.

A louder rumble shattered itself through the sky as if the heavens were cracking in half like an egg.

“C’mon you… asshole,” I hissed at the van, turning the keys once more. I was rewarded with a reluctant vibration as the engine powered into life. As I turned the wheel to the left, I let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

“There was no lightning,” Bernie mentioned idly, his eyes still out of the window. I could see his knuckles were white as he maintained his grip on the van interior.

The vehicle lurched and bounced as we rolled over the brief ditch at the side of the road. Once we had made it fully over, I started accelerating toward the dot on the Map. Eager to get there before things got worse, but aware that driving through the empty desert at night was probably a terrible idea. Such things seemed to be compounding as the minutes drew on.

Not that I was eager to be locked away, either. I hated being locked up. While Bernie was as affable as a person I’d ever met, I wasn’t sure how I’d handle being shut away for a long period of time with anyone. I was a loner by choice, of course. The fingers on my bandaged hand flexed against the steering wheel.

The headlights picked up a decent cone of the way ahead, and thankfully, most of this area was just arid. I swerved slightly to avoid clumps of dried vegetation, but other than the constant dust billowing around us and the clatter of gravel pelting the underside of the van, it had been a smooth ride so far.

I glanced over at Bernie, who was looking just as sick as I felt. Perhaps some small talk would help calm him. I resented myself for the idea.

“So… that Sally is extremely friendly,” I managed, despite my jaw being almost fused closed from the stress.

“Oh, she certainly is.” A slight smile cracked at the corner of his mouth. “She likes to help people, even if that means telling me off sometimes.”

“I just thought it was odd that she invited me to hang out…” It was almost suspicious. “Do I look like I need that kind of charity?”

“By the way that you wolfed down your food, dear... I couldn't say.”

I opened and closed my mouth before seeing the smile on his face. “Well, perhaps you’re right. I could do with a shower and a change of clothes as well. Three days on the road... there were several reasons I was looking forward to finding a hotel tonight.”

Perhaps I could see the reason the waitress wanted to extend a helping hand. From her perspective, I probably looked mentally ill or homeless. A lost soul in need of guidance. Far too trusting of her, even if she was partially right. Still, I missed that kind of naivety.

“I hope that they find their way out here as well,” I eventually said. Despite my waning desire to be around other people, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. Maybe this city could be the one.

With the current issue at hand, that seemed less likely.

“I believe they’ll be fine. She might look like she’d blow away in the breeze, but Sally is resourceful. The owner, Miss Doris, is a bit of a battleaxe herself.” Bernie leaned a little closer to me. “Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

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“Your secret is safe with me, Bernie.” There was some irony in the world deciding to end on the one evening I let my guard down and tried to act normal. As if reality had seen the opportunity to kick dirt in my eyes as soon as I let the suspicion wash away.

The vehicle shook as we hit a rougher area of ground, and the muscles in my arms locked up. We were almost halfway there now. I wondered how much time we had left. Idle thoughts cut short as I took a sharp breath by reflex.

I hadn't seen the rocks quick enough. The glare of the headlights managed to obscure the grouping of jutting stone until it was too late for me to turn away.

“Fuck!” I swore as we struck them. The van bucked like a wild horse, growling as it bounced a few times before we slid to a stop. Dust washed around us in a cloud as the engine ticked idly. As if it was tutting at me.

The headlights flickered before remaining on, but there was clearly something wrong with the vehicle.

“Sorry for the rough ride, Bernie.” I turned to him. “Are you okay?”

“In one piece,” he replied, his eyes wide as he continued to brace himself against the door. “I’m afraid I’m not too sharp when it comes to motor repair.”

I shook my head. “Pretty sure the axle is fucked, hun. Unless you can carry the van, then this is where it’ll have to stay. We don’t have too far to walk.”

While he nodded his acceptance, I passed him my phone to hold. Perhaps keeping an eye on the Map would help focus his thoughts so he didn’t get too worried. I leaned back and pulled out my go-bag from behind the passenger seat. It didn’t have much in it, but for staying in a bunker, I wasn’t sure most of my stuff in the van would be useful either.

Not when we were in a rush.

I stepped out of the van, leaving the headlights on. They would at least light up our journey for a few moments, and perhaps could guide help toward us when this calamity blew past. I slung the bag over my shoulder. Or it could point worse things our way. The side door closing drew my thoughts over to Bernie, who was glancing between the phone and myself.

“Looks like you’ll get a walk in after all, huh?” I gave him the best smile could muster, which he returned with a nod.

Now that we were out of the van, my eyes went over to the city as we started out walk across the dry stone and loose sand. There was clearly something going on there. Odd lighting, which I assumed to be flames and sirens, flickered between some of the tall buildings. Straining my ears, I could even hear alarms and the occasional louder burst of noise making its way across the empty plains.

I was most surprised that there were no vehicles coming down the road. Even if the city had plenty of bunkers, there would surely be some people desperate enough to escape to go other places, even if a terrible idea. But as far as I could see, nothing had left the city—at least in this direction.

With a shiver, I stepped closer to Bernie to check the map with him. Should only be a few minutes at this pace. He had found a speed setting urged on by the panic, but I could tell by his gait that it wasn’t sustainable.

“Hang on, I’m not sure what the battery life is like, but…” I zipped open my bag and my hand dug around blindly. Ah, there it was. I pulled out a head torch. With a flick of a switch, it turned on—not as bright as it should be, but it was better than the dim light of my phone for guiding us now that we were moving away from the light provided by the van.

“You wear it, dear. I spend most of the time looking at my feet.”

I nodded and pulled it over my head, realizing now how greasy my hair felt. The chances of the bunker having a shower were slim, but I had hope.

We saw the silhouette of the bunker before the headlamp had a chance to illuminate it. Rather small, but that made sense if most of it was going to be underground. It was tempting to run toward it, but I couldn’t leave Bernie behind. Things out in the world hadn’t gotten worse just yet, so I assumed that we had at least a few more minutes to get inside.

I paused, my muscles suddenly tensing up, as I heard a noise out to my left. They couldn’t have found me like this? My eyes switched to that side, and I saw something in my peripheral.

Two red lights—no, they were eyes staring at me. Low to the ground, so some manner of animal.

“What is it, dear?” Bernie asked, unsure as to why I had stopped so close to our goal.

“Stay behind me, and keep moving, okay?” I murmured, my hand going to my pocket as I turned my head.

There was a snuffling sound and something scratching against stone. My headlamp slowly painted a cone of light as I rotated in place. Almost ninety degrees to my left, it picked up the squat figure of what had been stalking us.

“Is that a boar?” Bernie asked, his voice quieter.

Normally, I’d probably agree with him. The short, chunky body covered in coarse hair certainly fit that assumption. Stubby legs. Tusks like a warthog. I hadn’t seen one with this kind of fur pattern, however. It was sandy and brindle - more like a hyena. The fact that not only was the animal’s eyes red, but this wasn’t a natural habitat for boars, told me something wasn’t right.

It kicked up sand with its front foot, readying to charge like a bull. I didn't know enough about boars to know if they were nocturnal or this aggressive either. Rabies? I glanced over at the bunker. I had no confidence that I could outrun it, let alone get Bernie there safely.

I started to step away from it, backwards, keeping myself between it and the older man. He could read the situation well enough to start off towards the bunker, his eyes now looking around to see if anything else dangerous was lurking in the darkness.

And then, seeing us retreating, it charged. Squealing, it powered across the sand, kicking up loose dust as it barreled toward me. Anger and disbelief had me act. I pulled out the hammer from my pocket, right hand aching as I gripped it tight.

Adrenaline ran through me, and I tried to stand tall to intimidate it. “Fuck off!” I yelled, acting as threatening as I was able. It didn’t even hesitate. I swung down at it, expecting the boar to bash into my leg—but it leaped instead.

My attack lightly grazed the side of its head as we collided and collapsed to the floor. The smell of sweat and urine washed over me as the small feet scrabbled and scratched at my skin through my shirt. It was heavy as fuck. I growled as it swiped its head at me, the tusk scratching across my collarbone and narrowly missed goring through my neck.

Blood soaked through the fabric of my white shirt as I grabbed at the animal's neck with my left hand. While it tried to twist its snout away to escape the press of my arm, I caught a back leg between my thighs and pinned it in place. The boar stomped its forelegs across my chest and side, and I brought the hammer in.

It squealed and sneezed moisture across my face on the first blow. The second one struck it in the skull, but it hardly even noticed it, weathering the attack completely. I could feel the energy leaving my body. I had to gain the advantage before my arm holding its mouth away gave out. I put all my effort into a third strike, and it paused, dazed.

I twisted, pushing it off of me, and it stumbled over while I still held a back leg. Before it had the chance to regain its senses, I brought the hammer down on the side of its head again. And then another two, three times. The muscles in my arms burned as I allowed my pent up anger and frustrations to seal the deal for certain. The wild animal slumped heavily to the ground.

My breathing was haggard as I stood back up to shaking legs. My whole chest ached. Bruised and scraped to shit. I could feel my heartbeat throbbing in the cut along my collarbone. After a brief moment where I just stared down at the inert boar, willing it to try me again, I shook my head and looked over at Bernie.

He didn’t look too good.

“Are you okay, dear?” he asked, his mouth barely getting the words out.

“Peachy.” I wiped the gore off my hammer on my slacks and pocketed the weapon. “Let’s get inside the bunker.”

He didn’t have any arguments, and I was currently feeling rather out of it. Being locked away in a vault while injured was even worse, but I had protected Bernie. Mostly so that I didn’t have to nurse any of his wounds, I tried to tell myself. I was just too tired to be full of sourness. Too achy.

The brickwork of the bunker seemed new, which was partially odd. As my headlight illuminated it, the door looked to be around the side. I almost felt relieved to be this close to it. I led Bernie around to the front, keeping my eyes on the darkness to make sure there weren’t more odd animals awaiting us.

Seemed safe.

The doorway was like a bank vault. Big metal wheel to spin and open it up. I didn’t waste any time and gripped at it, another pain flaring up in my hand. I clenched my jaw and twisted, some resistance given before it turned and spun. It groaned as I opened it wide enough to let Bernie in. “Careful as you go in,” I told him.

“Yes, dear,” he responded, some of his old charm managing to pierce through the white sheet he had now become.

I scanned around us before stepping in. One last look at the world for who knew how long? Somewhat disappointed to see that we were alone, somewhat glad.

After pulling the door closed, I spun it on the inside to lock it again. Turning around, there was another similar door at the bottom of some metal stairs—Bernie was already almost at the bottom. Already, I felt enclosed. Claustrophobic. Small caged lights sat in the wall, providing dim light leading down.

Autopilot kept me moving, however. Dealing with stressful situations… I was like a duck to water. Not usually this dire, but life was full of surprises. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I helped open the next vault, letting Bernie through once more before stepping through myself.

I closed it and stopped, leaning my forehead against the cold metal.

Now I was… exhausted. I hadn’t realized that I had been so out of breath still from the drive and scuffle with the boar. Soaked with fresh sweat and shaking slightly. It was a miracle I had kept all my food down after being roughed about, and I was lucky to not have any broken ribs. Tomorrow would still be agony.

But we had made it, whatever that really meant.

“Are you sure this is a bunker, dear?” Bernie’s voice echoed slightly.

I blinked away the draw of sleep, and turned around, wondering what could really go wrong now.

My brow furrowed at the sight of something completely unexpected.