Alarms rang out through the entire facility. The walls were basked in a deep orange glow in flashes, as the lights span in their holders, and it was obvious some form of emergency was taking place.

There was a pre-recorded message blaring over the ancient speaker system confirming this, muffled with age but unmistakably sending the message everyone had always feared.

“Warning; catastrophic flooding detected in levels 4 and 5, please evacuate the facility immediately. Warning; catastrophic flooding detected in levels 4 and 5…”

They had always known that the facility was never supposed to be permanent, that it was only intended as a brief refuge from the outside world. The inhabitants had overstayed their welcome, and as a result were paying for it right now.

“Warning; catastrophic flooding detected in levels 3, 4 and 5…”

Jack realised with a jolt that the flooding was getting close – dangerously so – to the level he was currently in. He finished his haphazard packing and roughly pulled on his bag before rushing outside his room. There were people out here in the corridors, running up and down shouting updates and commands. There was a soft film of water that was covering the ground, and Jack was disconcerted to notice that it was rapidly rising.

“Dad!” Jack shouted aimlessly, heading towards the stairs that lead up to the second level. Between the racket of the alarms blaring, the shouts of the men running around, and the warning message that was continually blasting out, Jack was sure his voice would be lost in the din. However, his father appeared quite suddenly through the crowds, grasping Jack by the arm and unceremoniously half-leading, half-dragging him towards the security office.

“Dad!” Jack repeated, bellowing over the noise. “Dad, we can’t stay on this floor, the water’s rising-“

They arrived inside the office, and Jack’s dad slammed the door. The noise died down to a mere muffle, although the alarm was still sounding in here. It was a small room, with a desk with several monitors with CCTV on, more than half of which were currently showing just static. It was a dingy room, made even more so by the emergency lighting that had replaced the usual piercing white neon tubes the usually lit up the room, and every other in the bunker. There was a bag on the desk next to the monitors, almost bursting it was so full. Jack made sure to drink in every single detail; despite the sense of foreboding he had thanks to the flooding, he nevertheless rarely visited his dad’s place of work, and was interested to see everything he could. There was paperwork everywhere, filing cabinets that were probably also filled with paperwork and forms, a workbench full of broken radios and walkie talkies. A lot more than he remembered than the last time he was here.

“Have you packed all your things, Jack?” his dad said, looking at the backpack he was carrying.

“All the essentials,” he confirmed, tearing his gaze from the shabby office to his father’s face.

“Good, good.” Jack’s dad was nodding vaguely, as if making his mind up on something. “Jones!”

There was a crash, and Mr Jones appeared from the back, white as a sheet. He was holding a shotgun.

“Dad, what’s-”

“Is it true?” Jack’s dad said harshly. Mr Jones merely nodded.

“What’s going-” Jack tried to say again, but once again his father cut across him.

“Send out the signal,” he said to Mr Jones, who turned a whiter shade still. “Gather as many men as you can. I’ve lost contact from the entrance crew, so we have to assume they’re all dead. That means our only way out is lost, and I’ll be damned if drowning is what gets me.”

“Dad?” Jack said, faintly this time. The entrance crew, dead? They were on level 0, right on the surface, the flood can’t have reached them before it had reached Jack’s level.

His dad now turned to face him, stooping slightly so he could look him directly in the eye. “Jack, I need you to do something. I need you to go to the kitchens, and go in the freezer. No, no listen to me,” he said as Jack made an attempt to cut across him. “You need to go into the freezer, and open the vent on the ceiling. This key will open it, you need to climb in and up, there’s a ladder. Once you get to the surface, you need to head to Manchester. Do you remember your geography, boy?”

Jack stuttered. “I-I think so? It’s west, but what are you talking-”

“Directly west, on the other side of the hills. It’ll take you a while, but when you get there you need to find Facility 2. It won’t be safe for you out there, and you’ll need to ration whatever food you have.”

“I- What?” Jack spluttered. His dad wasn’t making any sense, what was the point in telling him this? Was the bunker really lost? And if they were going outside, wouldn’t his dad be coming with him?

“You need to go to Facility 2,” he repeated. “Find them, and don’t come back here.”

“Dad, what do you mean? Aren’t you coming-”

Jack’s dad sighed. The dull flashing orange light on his face accentuated his wrinkled features, and it was the first time Jack had ever thought his father looked old. “I can’t fit in there, I’m not as I used to be. It’s a tiny chute, it’s only designed for air intake. If you can get through there and make it to the surface, you have to. You need to survive, son, do you understand?” He stood up, and grabbed the pistol that was hanging around his own belt, along with his extra clips. “Take it, there’s no telling how dangerous it is out there. And take this too,” he gestured to another bag on his desk, one that looked even larger and heavier than the one Jack had stuffed with all his possessions. “That should keep you going until you get to the other bunker.”

He turned away from Jack. He didn’t understand what his father was saying. Was he asking him to leave their home, alone? The world outside was unknown, they had been cut off since before even his father had been born. Jack made to question his dad, plead to stay down here. But he had already walked away, towards Mr Jones.

“Jones, we need to recoup on level 1, grab as many of the guns as you can and we’ll get going. Keep trying the radios too, if we can reach level 0 and get a response, at least we’ll know we’re not alone in this mess. And Jack,” his father turned back, looking directly at Jack. His voice wavered and cracked slightly.

“Good luck, son.”

And then he was gone. Jack stood rooted to the spot dumbly for a few seconds, before remembering that he shouldn’t still be here. He grabbed the bag, staggering slightly under the weight, and picked up the gun that was still encased in its holster. He could feel the cold steel of the handle instantly start to sap away his warmth, and felt a great unease as he strapped it to his belt. He grabbed the extra clips and stuffed them into his pockets, and then left the office.

Pandemonium. There were crowds throughout the halls now, now shouting in panic and fear. Jack had heard someone say the guards had blocked off access to the upper levels for some reason, even as the water raised higher still. The levels had reached ankle height now, splashes of water lapping over the hem of Jack’s boots every now and again and giving him a wave of discomfort as his socks became steadily wetter and wetter. He arrived at the stairs, and indeed several guards had blocked the crowds off, barking orders at people and forcing them away. Jack raced forwards, and before any of them could stop him he was through, sprinting up the stairs. They called after him, bellowed after him trying to get him to come back down, but they did not follow him up the dry stairs.

At once, Jack realised something was wrong. He had reached the peak of the staircase of level 1. The alarms were still going off in this section, as well as the tannoy warnings ordering everybody to evacuate. But aside from that, it was extremely quiet. There were no people, no shouting or screaming or wailing, just silence. Jack was unnerved.

He made his way through the corridors regardless. He was heading for the canteen, and through there to the kitchen, to the outside world. His footsteps echoed loudly as he ran, bouncing off the walls and down the endless corridors. But still there was no sight of anybody remaining.

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Maybe they had all already evacuated? It was certainly possible, but the way his dad had spoken about the people on the level above didn’t fit that explanation at all. As he thought that, Jack turned a corner, still running, and his foot went flying. He fell, landing on his back and banging his head hard on the concrete ground. His vision flashed for a moment, then returned, black spots floating in the air. He unsteadily got to his feet, feeling rather nauseas, and looked down the corridor heading towards the cafeteria.

He blanched. In front of him there must’ve been four, maybe five corpses. He could not tell precisely the number, for something had torn them limb from limb, to the point that they were just ragged messes decorating the walls, ceiling and floor. He looked down and saw a pool of blood, with a single streak where he had slipped.

His feeling of nausea strengthened, and he felt himself start to retch. Despite the convulsions, he tried to power his way through the bloody scene. In spite of himself he occasionally looked at the bodies, although they were mostly unidentifiable. His father had said he was going up to level 1, upstairs from here. Maybe…

He would not think of it. He couldn’t. He continued down the corridor, walking as fast as he could but not daring run through on the slippery, bloodied floor. He reached the door on the end, and entered the cafeteria.

Jack was dismayed to find that the lights in here were similarly disabled. In the corridors it was fine, the orange lights were enough to make way, but the cafeteria was a large atrium, with an upper walkway that was accessed on the floor above. It was so large that only the outer walls were illuminated where the emergency lights were placed, and there was a deep blackness that Jack didn’t dare breach.

He placed a hand on his own heart, and felt it beating through his chest at an alarming rate. He would have to risk the long way around; something told him that there was danger ahead.

He walked, keeping the walls to his left. Did he hear something, something in the centre of the room?

He reached the first corner, and carried on. Was that a cough, or was it something else?

The far corner now. He could see the door to the kitchens, right in the middle of the wall. There was a clink, and a scratching sound. There was definitely something out there, Jack was sure of it.

Suddenly Jack broke out into a run, and so did something else, something heavy and fast racing straight towards him. He reached the door, flung it open and tore inside, slamming the door behind him and wrenching the bolt closed. There was an almighty crash as something pummelled into the other side, rattling the door on its hinges. The banging increased in volume as whatever was still in the cafeteria was trying to force its way inside.

“No,” Jack heard a whisper, and he span around. Behind one of the counters, half crouched, was a man that Jack recognised to be one of the cooks. He was covered in blood, and Jack realised that it was his own.

“No,” the cook repeated. “No, you’ve led it here. We’re going to die, it’s going to kill us, we’re going to-”

There was another, almighty bang and the door buckled inwards slightly, still standing but severely dented. The man hid behind the counter again, weeping softly. Jack headed past him, towards the freezer's great metal door. It was locked.

“Hey,” Jack said loudly, causing the cook to jump. “Where’s the key?”

The cook simply pointed towards the door that Jack had entered through. Towards the canteen.

“Don’t you have one with you?” He asked, and he could hear the note of panic creeping in his own voice. The cook shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

Jack surveyed the door. It was large, and sturdy, but the lock was designed more to keep the cold in than keep people out. He unholstered the pistol, grabbing it by the barrel, and tried to hit the handle. He missed, grazing the metal surface of the door and causing a large clang to reverberate through the room. There was an terrible sound from outside in the cafeteria, a terrible roar with hair-raising clarity. It was as if whatever had made the sound was right next to him, breathing down his neck.

“Do you want to die quicker? Be quiet!” The cook screeched hysterically, red in the face and spitting. His eyes bulged as he noticed the pistol in Jack’s hand.

Jack aimed another hit, and it landed. Another one, and the handle broke off. He grabbed the edge of the door, and with all the strength he could muster he opened the freezer door. It was a huge freezer, almost as big as the cafeteria he had just come from, but lined with rows and rows of frozen produce, meat, and the like.

“Give it me,” the cook said quietly. Jack let go of the door and looked at the man. He appeared almost deranged, a mad grin on his face. “Give me the gun.”

“No, it’s-”

Before he had the chance to speak, the cook tackled him. Caught off guard, once again Jack hit the ground hard, lights playing in his eyes for the second time that evening. When he had regained his senses, the cook was standing over him, gun in hand.

“Wait,” Jack said quickly. But the cook paid him no attention. He instead was heading towards the door, the door that lead to the cafeteria. Jack’s eyes widened in horror as he realised what he was about to do.

He ran into the freezer, looking around wildly for the vent. He spotted it, at the far end of the aisle directly in front of him just as he heard the tell-tale clank of a bolt being drawn back. He climbed the shelves as quickly as he could, occasionally slipping has he put his hand on a packet filled with vegetables, as he heard the gun go off.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

There was a yell of pain. Jack fumbled with his pockets, trying to find the key. There, he’d found it. There was another yell, another bang, and a sound Jack had never before heard, one that sounded awfully similar to a knife cutting through flesh. The man made no more sounds, but Jack could still hear a horrible crunching sound as he forced his hand to steady has he shoved the key into the lock. He twisted it once, and the grate fell down, down to the ground where it landed with a loud clatter.

There was silence in the kitchen, and Jack sensed danger, an instinctual and base form of fear that he had to leave, now. With agility that he surprised himself with, he climbed the remaining shelves and went headfirst into the chute, grasping blindly for the ladder before he found it, and heaving himself up. As his feet touched the bottom rung, he heard the same, horrible roar that pierced his ears, and he almost let go, but he managed to hang on tight as he scurried up the ladder. There were smashing sounds reverberating from the base of the vent, as something large and powerful was destroying the freezer room as it tried to fit itself into the tiny hole that its quarry had escaped through. Jack did not look down, nor did he stop. He climbed and climbed, rung after rung, not stopping until a full three minutes had passed and the noises from below had subsided. He panted hard, the beginnings of a stitch throbbing in his side. He wavered for a second, as the reality of everything that had just happened threatened to surface. Clenching his teeth, Jack grabbed the next rung, and the one after that, and the one after that, determined to make it to the surface.

It felt like he was in that chute for hours. His hands were sore, his legs were shaking, and he was taking more ragged breaths as he carried on in the pitch black. He banged his head on the ceiling, his eyes watering in pain, and he blindly grasped around, looking for something that would enable him to open it. He had a momentary wave of panic as he felt a small keyhole in the metal work, but remembered the key his dad had given him. He fumbled in his pockets until he found the small sliver of brass, and carefully put it in the hole. He was very aware that if he dropped it, he would have no choice but to climb all the way down to the freezer to pick it back up again. Slowly, carefully, he turned the key in the lock.

Click.

Click.

CLUNK.

The vent above him loosened, and he pushed it open. He pocketed the key once again, just to be safe, and then climbed up and sprawled out on the ground. Jack was utterly exhausted. Every joint and muscle hurt, but he knew he shouldn’t stay here.

Looking around, he spotted a red light. Slowly he got to his feet and headed towards it. The light got larger and larger, and he realised it wasn’t a light at all, but the outside world. He hesitated. Jack had lived underground his entire life. The thought of being outside was purely alien to him.

He took a step forwards. He could make out hills. Why was the landscape covered in red? Was there a fire? Or, more worryingly, was there so many of those creatures out here that the entire land was covered in blood? He gulped, and took another step. No, that was impossible, there couldn’t be that much blood. And now he could see tress, which were similarly bathed in red. No way the trees were covered in blood too.

Another step. And another. Soon, he could see the ground below him. Stone. He was in the entrance to a cave.

He stepped outside. There were hills all around him, and a massive lake directly in front of him. On the lake’s surface he could see the moon reflected in the sky.

Jack frowned. Was the moon supposed to be red? He looked up, up into the sky where the moon hung, a perfect red circle glistening in the night.

Pain, pain as Jack had never felt before, erupted across his entire being. It felt as if his entire body was being torn apart from within. The red landscape turned grey, then it dissolved into nothingness as Jack fell to the ground.