The heavy, dreamless sleep of exhaustion finally ebbed away, leaving Mira in the disorienting dimness of their quarters. She blinked, her eyes feeling gritty and swollen. For a few blissful seconds, she forgot. She thought she was back in their apartment in the city, the sun about to peek through the curtains. Then, the hum of the bunker's recycled air hit her, a low, mechanical drone that served as a constant reminder of the miles of rock and concrete pressing down on them.
Rubbing her left eye, she glanced at the digital clock on the wall which glowed a steady 8:20 AM. She had been out for over four hours.
She was just about to move out of the bed when her nose caught something interesting, she immediately turned towards the direction of the scent.
On the small, bolted-down table beside the bed sat a tray that looked utterly out of place in the middle of an apocalypse. There was a bowl of steaming porridge sweetened with real honey, a plate of preserved peaches, and even a small, perfectly toasted piece of artisan bread, likely sourced from the private stores of the high command. The steam still rose from a cup of herbal tea, smelling of chamomile and calm.
Propped against the tea was a folded piece of cream colored piece of paper
Mira picked it up, curious to know what was inside
Alex's handwriting was unmistakable sharp, disciplined, and bold. It read
Hey love,
Good morning, when you wake up, wait for me here. I'm currently buried in reports at the Command Center, and honestly, it's for the best. If you were standing here beside me, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on a single coordinate as I'd be too busy staring at your beautiful face, wondering how I got lucky enough to be the one tasked with protecting you.
Eat, rest, I'll be back the moment the world allows it.
Mira felt a deep, warm flush creep up her neck and settle in her cheeks. She pressed the note to her chest, a small, involuntary giggle escaping her lips. To the world, General Alex was a Stone Wall, a man of iron directives and ice cold execution who didn't flinch at the sight of monsters. But with her, he was a "doting bunny," a man who used his limited power to hoard honey and peaches just to see her smile. He had soft edges and whispered promises, a version of himself he kept locked away from everyone but her.
But as the blush faded, the silence of the room rushed back in. The note was a beautiful lie, or at least a beautiful distraction. She looked at the heavy steel door, remembering the alien creatures who had invaded earth, the wet, rasping sound of claws on the ventilation ducts and the terrifying deaths that had happened few hours back. The world was still screaming outside, even if it was quiet in here. Those creatures, those nightmares of unknown biology were still waiting. The weight of the apocalypse soon settled back onto her shoulders, cold and suffocating.
"Don't think about it," she whispered to herself, her voice sounding hollow. "Just do what he asked."
She stood up, her muscles stiff, and moved to the small wash basin.
She stripped off her grimy, sweat-stained clothes, feeling a sense of revulsion at the scent of fear that clung to the fabric. She bathed quickly with the limited warm water, scrubbing until her skin was pink.
On the bed, Alex had left a fresh set of clothes, soft, charcoal, grey lounge pants and a thick, oversized wool sweater that smelled of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and cold air.
Slipping into his sweater felt like a hug. It swallowed her small frame, the sleeves hanging past her knuckles, but it made her feel safe.
She sat down to the meal, the flavors exploding on her tongue. The richness of the honey and the sweetness of the fruit were almost overwhelming after days of tasteless protein bars. She ate with a focused intensity at first, but halfway through the porridge, her stomach revolted.
The anxiety of their situation acted like a physical knot, preventing her from finishing. No matter how much she wanted to honor Alex's gift of love, she couldn't take another bite.
She couldn't just sit here, either. The walls of the room felt like they were slowly closing in.
Mira stood up and carefully wrapped the remaining bread and peaches in a cloth napkin. She didn't want the guards to see her wasting food, and she certainly didn't want Alex to think she hadn't appreciated it. She tucked the bundle into the pocket of her sweater and walked to the door.
She pressed the release, and the heavy door hissed open.
The two female soldiers Alex had stationed there, Corporal Vance and Private Kory immediately snapped to attention, their boots clicking on the metal floor. They looked tired, their eyes darting to the movement in the hallway, but they offered Mira a respectful nod.
"Ma'am," Vance said, her voice low. "The General requested you stay inside for your safety."
"I've been inside for so long, Corporal," Mira said, trying to find a shred of the authority Alex carried so effortlessly even though she sounded like a child. "I need to walk. I just need to take a stroll that's all."
Vance looked at Kory, then back to Mira. They saw the desperation in her eyes, the look of an over protected child that needed a little bit of freedom
"We'll escort you, Ma'am," Vance conceded. "But we stay to the main corridors. The General's orders were very specific about avoiding the lower sectors. The air is thin down there."
Mira nodded, clutching the oversized sleeves of Alex's sweater.
As she stepped out into the hallway, the reality of the bunker hit her. Now that the hall was brightly lit, she could now clearly see the faces of the people and Mira couldn't help but think if this was ever going to come to an end.
Although it was daytime already,there was no talking. Everywhere she looked, people were sitting against the walls, their faces gaunt, eyes fixed on nothing. They looked like ghosts waiting for a train that would never come.
She passed a group of children who were huddled in a circle, playing a silent game with pebbles. No laughter. No shouting.
The Silence Alex had commanded was being observed with a religious, terrifying fervor. It wasn't the silence of peace; it was the silence of a graveyard.
As she stood and watched, she saw a technician being carried away on a stretcher, he seemed to have passed out due to an increase in high blood pressure.
Mira's heart hammered against her ribs. Alex's note had been so sweet, he made it seem it this was all a minor situation.