Thomas’s exhausted slumber was interrupted as the pain in his leg made itself known once more. As he opened his eyes, he discovered it was pitch black. Slightly panicking, and wondering if he had only imagined lights being on within the bunker,


    Thomas began shifting around, feeling at the walls and door. Suddenly a click sounded from above him and the lights flickered on, a few seeming to struggle to come on. Groaning, he used the nearest wall and the bars on the bunker door, and began pulling himself back into a standing position only to stop and pick up the mobile terminal he had taken from the server from the floor.


    Once standing, he turned and began to limp down the ramp into the bunker. He followed the tunnel as it switched back and forth leading him down deeper into the earth, using the guide rail along the wall as a crutch. He was cursing the designers of this shelter for making it so deep when he came around the corner of the fifth switch back in the tunnel when he saw the tunnel begin to level out and widen into what appeared to be a waiting or assembly area.


    As Thomas limped into the chamber, he saw a sight that brought a tear to his eye as he limped faster. A door with a large green cross, a medical station, and it should be fully stocked since this shelter apparently was never used. Thomas threw open the door and staggered inside, eyes taking in the shelves with neatly lined, if dusty, boxes of medicine, bandages and other supplies that would be needed in an emergency.


    Moving through the office, Thomas began pulling boxes off shelves and shaking the dust off them. He quickly found the items he needed, a bottle of disinfectant alcohol, a pack of cleaning wipes, a small tin of numbing gel, scissors and clean medical wrap, then made his way over to a plastic covered examination table. Thomas placed the items on the table then turned around, looking at a desk set into the corner. Curious if the rumors he had heard about the medics keeping bottles of liquor at the desks for emergencies were true, he limped over and began opening drawers.


    It was the third drawer he checked that caused him to give a shout of joy, a small bottle of bourbon whiskey, unopened. Cradling his prize like a newborn, he returned to the table and added it to the pile of other items, and then turned around and eased himself onto the table. It was painful, peeling back the last bit of the makeshift wrap. The bloody wrap was sticky and acting like it was glued to the wound. Finally peeling it off, the wound began to slowly trickle blood.


    Thomas removed his ruined pants, eliciting more grunts of pain, before beginning to inspect the wound while trying to remember the mandatory first aid training that he had been required to attend. The skin around the stab wound was swollen, hot to the touch and covered with still tacky blood. He began to quickly clean the wound, swearing loudly all the while and nearly blacking out a couple times from the pain. Taking a couple pills from a bottle that was labeled as a general antibiotic after he finished wrapping the wound with clean bandages, he laid back on the table.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    It had been a hell of a day in his opinion, if any was around to ask at least. From the highs of a successful demo to the madness of whatever this was. He still wasn''t sure of what to make of all this, he needed to find out more about what was going on.


    Shivering from the cool air in the shelter, he began to list out loud what he needed right now, “water, food and rest” he said, his voice echoing in the room. Looking around the room he spotted some plastic wrapped blankets on a shelf, and with some effort, levered himself up and off the table.


    After acquiring a warm, if itchy wool blanket and some green scrub pants, he packed his medical supplies and emergency bourbon into a bag he found and exited the medical station. Thomas continued through the assembly area and passed through a double door into the shelter’s living area.


    A large room setup like a cafeteria lay to his left with what appeared to be a couple office’s sat on the right side of the hallway. He could see that the hallway ended at the entrance of what looked like a lounge area.


    Sticking to his plan, Thomas entered the cafeteria and passed through a set of swinging doors into the kitchen area. Cases of bottled water sat untouched, gathering dust along with crates labeled as MRE’s. The water in the bottles looked murky, and after opening the crate of MRE’s, noted that they appeared swollen.


    Cursing his luck, he moved over to a sink and turned the faucet on. The pipes immediately began to vibrate rapidly causing Thomas to stumble back at the unexpected noise. Quickly a gurgling sound could be heard and a gush of black liquid splashed out of the faucet. Another gush of liquid followed and a stream of dirty water began pouring out into the basin. As he watched, the water slowly began to clear.


    The water felt cold to the touch, and didn’t smell off. Deciding to try it rather than risk dehydration, he cupped his hands and took a small sip. A bit of a metallic taste, but better than nothing. After getting his fill of water and washing some of the grime off his face, he turned off the faucet.


    Food, he thought, was his next goal.


    Deciding to not even bother risking it with the MRE’s, he began searching cabinets, cupboards and really any place that may hold food. The freezers had long ago stopped working and anything within had rotted away, and most cabinets had swollen or exploited food cans. In one pantry however, Thomas found treasure. Several vacuum sealed bags of dehydrated fruits and dried nuts, along with several bags of beans and rice.


    After filling a pitcher with water and stuffing a few bags of dehydrated fruit into his bag, he continued down the hall to the lounge area. It was set up to be a recreation area, he could see couches lined up facing a large wall mounted television, as well as book shelves, boxes of what appeared to be board games and tables stacked against the far wall.


    Clearly labeled signs pointed him to the closest sleeping area, and exhaustion won out over his desire to explore the rest of the shelter. Rows of three level bunk beds filled his vision upon entering the sleeping area. Picking the closest one, Thomas pulled the dust covered mattress out and flipped it over on the floor so the less dusty bottom was facing up.


    With a final check of his bandage, he ate several handfuls of dried fruit and washed it down with water. He sent up a silent prayer as he lay down on the mattress, that this was all just some horrible dream and he was just unconscious on the floor of his lab after a terrible accident.