Hey there, folks! Panda's back from what was a shorter than expected hiatus. As it turns out, I went ahead and started rewriting Ties so I could get it where I wanted it before I started posting again, and before I knew it I had the prologue finished. So, since I'm a great deal happier with how the story's looking, I decided to go ahead and start posting it again on a biweekly schedule. So, to readers both new and old, welcome to The Ties That Bind Us. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave a review or send me a PM. ^^
The only sounds in the bunker were a discordant chorus of electronic beeps and the furious clatter of keys as deft fingers danced over the keyboard entering commands as quickly as could be managed. Seeing how this had been her life for the past twenty-nine years the keystrokes came as easy as breathing, maybe even easier. Unfortunately it wasn't difficult for much to be more of a struggle than breathing within the confines of the fallout bunker; even after all this time the concrete prison had a way of making her feel as claustrophobic as ever. All she could do to prevent wasting even more precious time on another emotional breakdown or panic attack was to focus on her work and avoid distraction at all costs. And the isolation certainly hadn't helped any as her only companions were a single timeworn photograph and a young brunette who spent the vast majority of her time in a unique sort of suspended animation, meaning that she wasn't necessarily the best in a conversation.
As her thoughts wandered to the brunette her eyes did as well, reflexively tucking a few stray strands of long-silvered dirty blonde hair behind her ear in the process. Her gaze came to rest on the stasis unit the unconscious young woman was being held in, squinting against the harsh orange glow it cast on the dimly lit workspace. Within the tube of the stasis chamber the brunette floated in an incredibly thick ad nutrient-rich suspension fluid with her eyes closed and her flowing hair fanned out behind her in uneven tendrils. The young woman's nose and mouth were shielded from the liquid by a specialized medical mask designed specifically for use in submersion tanks. A number of tubes and intravenous lines had been affixed to her limbs, chest, and a few other areas on her back to handle primary nutrient delivery and the management of other bodily processes. Those were meshed together with a series of electrodes on her chest and head to monitor heart rate and brain activity.
Blue eyes glossed over the placard she had made from some materials she hadn't really found a purpose for aside from that. 'Alexis' was the name the brunette had been given, something pulled from the recesses of her mind with a root in her childhood. The floating young woman's fingers began to twitch and the woman observing her couldn't help but smile. It was the simple things, little moments like that when it was almost easy to forget that they were the lone survivors of the end of the world.
Before the apocalypse Bonnibel Barton had been a brilliant physics student well on her way to her doctorate. In fact, she had just been accepted for a rather prestigious internship that had her on the fast-track to greatness. She had a loving family, good close friends, aspirations, a life...And nearly thirty years later she found herself standing in a cramped fallout bunker that she had made both home and office, staring fondly at what she felt was mankind's last best chance for survival.
With a despondent sigh Bonnibel turned back to her work. With her attention focused on her computer she was able to quickly finishing entering the complex series of commands meant to execute functions among the other computers and machines around the bunker. If everything went according to plan then perhaps the destruction and carnage that she had been unfortunate enough to witness would never happen. If she had accounted for every variable then maybe, just maybe there was a chance that all of the death caused by what could only be called nuclear Armageddon could be avoided...that her loved ones could be saved…
Bonnibel reached out a trembling hand and picked up the faded and timeworn picture she kept propped on the corner of the screen of her main computer. A single tear managed to squeeze its way through her emotional dam and slid down her cheek as she scanned the faces of loved ones forever frozen in warm, honest smiles as they posed for the camera. Missing them was the worst pain she could imagine and had it been the driving force behind the entire scheme Bonnibel had devised to try and save everything she loved. It was why she willed herself to keep going, keep living, and to keep working – even if that meant pushing her ethical limits to their boundaries and possibly violating serious laws that would never have gone unpunished in the old world.
'This isn't the old world, though, is it?' Bonnibel thought bitterly.
Her moment of sadness turned to anger just as quickly as the world had ended as soon as the first of the bombs started to fall. It was as fresh in Bonnibel's mind as if it had happened just the day prior. As if the initial destruction of the thousands of nuclear warheads being detonated hadn't been enough, the radiation had been pushed to otherwise untouched areas across the globe via air currents, resulting in complete and total surface contamination. Nobody had really stood a chance.
The bombs had only been the coup de grace. The worst part of the end of the world had come well before the first nuke had been launched in the form of hellish monsters that started to literally spring up mostly within the city of Reno. They were vicious, bestial things that scrambled on all fours and ripped into their victims with a maw full of razor-sharp fangs. And for every victim they claimed it meant that yet another monster was added to their ranks, for each person they killed rose again as a twisted shade of the person they had once been. As terrifying as their almost human appearance was the real horror came in their sheer numbers. The creatures themselves were unintelligent and showed nothing more than basic reasoning skills, though a few did seem to be able to effectively mimic human behavior and speech. Though really, despite their acts of savagery nothing could be blamed on them. Guilt lay with the man behind the mob, the only other possible survivor that Bonnibel could think of, the monster who had orchestrated the end of the world.
Bonnibel shook her head so hard to clear her stray thoughts that she had to quickly grip the side of her desk to prevent herself from falling over. The dizziness pushed the urgency of the scientist's time constraint to the forefront of her mind. Her body was on the verge of succumbing to a combination of starvation, dehydration, and what she suspected were health issues associated with exposure to concentrated gamma radiation over a prolonged period of time. Her food stores had finally run out the week before, though the woman hadn't had a proper meal in as long as she could remember, and the last of the water had been used days prior. Those twenty-nine years had taken their toll on Bonnibel and when she tore herself away from her diligent work to get what little sleep she could, she wasn't able to ignore the results of her age and circumstances on her body. Even in her isolation the woman still felt self-conscious when she happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. In her youth Bonnibel had been fit, a bit soft around the edges but healthy nonetheless. Now she more resembled a skeleton draped in a sheet of loose skin that was riddled with a map of wrinkles. That insecurity only deepened when she began to compare herself to Alexis.
Once more blocking out errant thoughts, Bonnibel channeled her memories of the past, of her friends, and of everything she stood to lose as she steeled herself and walked over to a second computer she had running. The woman began to open up numerous directories until finding the one she needed. A notification flashed on the screen requesting a password be entered using voice input. Bonnibel grabbed the radio handset she had re-purposed for this exact reason and spoke.
"Addendum to start-up protocol in the event neural security sequences activate: Voice only: Initiate at boot: Access code B25B-dash-M26A-dash-GMWP." She paused and watched as the computer processed the information and authorized access to the directory. Once it was finished Bonnibel cleared her throat, keyed her handset, and continued.
"I'm recording this message as a backup measure in case something goes wrong. I don't see why that should happen, but not even I'm perfect, so...Yeah. I'd like to apologize for initiating everything earlier than I'd planned. It puts us at a higher risk in a few different areas, but I simply can't wait any longer. It is imperative that you follow the mission directives at all costs, Alexis. You can't let those bombs fall. At the same time you can't forget..." Bonnibel took a steady breath and slid her thumb over the photograph she still clutched in her hand. "You have to keep them safe. We have to keep them safe. Even if it doesn't seem like it, I'll be with you every step of the way. Take care of yourself until I wake up, okay?"
Bonnibel sniffled and wiped away a few stray tears with the cuff of her grayed lab coat as she concluded the message. It finally began to sink in that this was the moment she had spent twenty-nine agonizingly long years working towards and she was starting to get emotional. With a watery sigh she set the radio handset down and made sure to save the changes that had been made to the programs, checking a few more last-minute things in the process. Once everything was good to go she walked back to her primary computer and started the activation sequence for the final function the machines in the bunker would perform.
The woman made her way to the far side of the stasis chamber where Alexis slept. There sat a chair that had been built as a part of the stasis chamber. The two different devices were connected secondarily by a series of tubes and hoses meant to connect the woman in the chamber with whomever took a seat. Bonnibel sat down on the cold metal and lowered the helmet-like device attached to it before strapping it onto her head. Once it was secure the only thing she had left to do was hope and wait, counting down the seconds until her highly-experimental invention powered on and hopefully set her grand plot into motion. The low whine of equipment warming up began to rise in pitch. As it did Bonnibel's mind started to skip between her countdown and her thoughts.
'5'
If there was even a minuscule chance that her loved ones could be saved then all of this would have been worth every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears.
'4'
This had to work. It had to...Bonnibel held her breath as her eyes flitted to Alexis for the final time.
'3'
The fate of the world now lay in the hands of a single woman.
'2'
Everything depended on this succeeding.
'1'
A jolt of electricity surged through her and the last thing that Bonnibel felt was an odd mix of pain and pleasure, the final sounds she would be met with were shattering glass and a high-pitched ringing, and all she saw was sparks flying as lights around the bunker shattered before her vision was overtaken by a blinding white light. Had she been on the outside looking in she would have seen her body begin to twitch and writhe, perhaps considering through the terrified haze if there even was a chance to save the world or if its destruction was something along the lines of destiny. But neither her senses nor her consciousness were with her now.
As the machine finished its work Bonnibel Barton died, her breath leaving her for the final time as her body went slack. The aged photograph she'd grasped until the very end fell to the cold floor, leaving Bonnibel and the group of her closest friends standing fixed forever in place as they smiled at the concrete ceiling of the bunker.