There was an idea. There was a concept.
This is something I keep coming back to but I lack the technical knowledge to actually do anything with.
* Level 7, Room 7021. January 4, 2011 *
Taylor gasped as she awoke. The nightmare again.
The familiar ceiling reassured her though. She was still in the Hebert residence, seven floors down from the surface, near the loading docks that had been shut down since before she'd been born.
Well, mostly shut down. There were still Hunter groups occasionally leaving to find/make/scavenge resources.
Not that the ENE Bioshelter had anything nearby that hadn't already been looted down to the ground.
Her father and mother had both been Hunters. Her father had eventually retired from that life to go into Admin specifically for the Dockworks. Her mother had continued for a year until she'd retired to Academy Professor. Her first love, English Literature, wasn't exactly high demand so she'd parlayed her experience as a Hunter (class 2) to teach survival skills and Hunter lessons.
Until her mother had been caught in Access Tunnel 7-A and that had collapsed on her. She'd died in the dark with only her wristcomp to distract her as her air had run out while the crews had worked to get to her. That was the recurring nightmare, her memories of that last communication.
Taylor got out of bed, her eyes immediately tracking to the "window" that was actually a picture from pre-Impact times of things she'd never seen. Grass and trees and a sun shining down. The Hunters might see such things. Taylor wasn't sure.
1978. August 3rd. Impact. The time two chunks of the same crystalline asteroid (or two crystal asteroids that were gravitationally locked) arrived. One hit Europe. The other smashed into the moon with enough force that Earth now had a ring.
Humanity was frantic. There were shelters already, remnants from the Cold War and its paranoia. More shelters were built and a lottery for those to enter. The lucky, like her parents, got in.
Some of the shelters failed, a result of hasty construction. SanSan had been one of the first to fail, as the rioters had taken out work crews and then overcrowded the unfinished shelter. BosWash had been limping along but still survived somehow. ChiPitts had survived until the mid-90s though they had had problems since the beginning and had looked as if they were gradually overcoming their problems.
ENE (US-ENE or Eastern North-East was actually up in New Hampshire. Apparently there had been a choice between trying to get into BosWash or ENE for her grandparents as her parents had still been minors at the time.
Taylor shook her head, trying to clear it of the memory lane trip as she prepared for another day at Arcadia High School down on Level 9.
Hopefully she could avoid the trio on the walkways between home and Arcadia.
* Level 8 *
Emma Barnes took a deep drag of her cigarette before passing it on to Madison.
Sophia didn't. Sophia was among the highest ranked for the Winslow track team. She was going to become a Hunter, the best of the best, and that meant keeping in peak physical shape.
Scavenged cigarettes were hard to come by but there was a lucrative black market for all the products that Hunters didn't normally provide due to a low-survival-necessity rating.
"Think she'll use this stairwell?" asked Emma after blowing a cloud of smoke out.
"Elevator 12 is down again. They'll most likely end up scavenging it to keep other elevators going," Madison Clements had an older sister in Maintenance and a mother who was in Supply. She could hear all sorts of complaints all day.
Emma made a face as the stubby was passed back to her. Her own family didn't have nearly the number of connections though divorce lawyers would always be able to make money as long as couples came together. Her mother was no help either as she was in Hydroponics.
Sophia reached over and lifted up the bucket of Type II Cleaning Fluid. "There she is."
* Taylor *
The higher the number, the deeper the level. The residential complex was from Seven through Nine and again from Twelve through Thirteen. There were fifteen levels altogether. Twelve and Thirteen were those with money or power or both and close to the Admin Hub on Fourteen. Level One contained the warehouses and the Hunters offices. Levels Two and Three were Hydroponics and farming.
Level 9 had started out as new as all of the other levels. In those early days it had all been a bit rough and make-do on all levels but the other levels had mostly gotten past that. Level 9 was for those who didn't hit the Elite mark where grades or talent indicated a greater survival value to the shelter.
Taylor COULD have gone to Arcadia, even after her two weeks in an Advanced Survival course. She had the test scores to make it there. Instead she'd come back from her Survival training to find that Emma Barnes now regarded her as an enemy. At first she'd hoped that her all-but-in-blood sister would change back. After that hope had passed, every attempt to file the paperwork to get out of Winslow had been turned down by the school administration.
Taylor was clever, however. There were loopholes to exploit, and if she couldn't go through the Principal's Office that left going around them.
She just had to survive long enough for the paperwork to hit the appropriate level.
Which was her thought just before a bucket of cleaning fluid smashed into her, knocking her down.
* Madison *
"Bullseye!" said Emma.
"Uhm, weren't you supposed to throw the contents of the bucket? Wasn't the plan to just hit HER with it?" asked Madison.
A particularly burly-looking woman in a Maintenance coverall, wiped fluid off her face, took a good look at those who had thrown the bucket and looked supremely unhappy.
As the woman stomped towards them, Emma got out front. "My father is a lawyer. If you do ANYTHING to me, I'll have you - GAKKKK!"
Sophia noted that the Maintenance worker was holding Emma up with one hand by the neck and attacked. Emma found herself being used to pummel Sophia immediately thereafter.
Madison considered her odds carefully, decided she didn't like them, and found the option of running and getting help to be the most logical course of action.
* Admin Ring Guard HQ, January 5 2011 *
"What have we got and why is that damn fool yelling about suing for entrapment?" asked Judge "Hannibal" Smith.
"That fool be a damn fool is right, damn divorce lawyer be all blaming everyone and everything his damn fool daughter got caught," said Sergeant Baracus. "Cameras on Level 8 just got fixed, Maintenance right there. Three kids threw bucket full'a Cleaning Fluid Two at girl they been bullyin' and done got caught. Maintenance got hit in the face with splash, also one Hunter-Cadet and a Recycling Tech. Recycler was able to apply some neutralizing shit to keep the burns from getting too bad."
"Any evidence their target did something to provoke them?" asked Judge Smith.
"Nah, they claim all sorts of shit but their stories don't match up and we found evidence of a cover-up. Turns out Miss Bucket there is on the track team and has connections to that Black Ops squad. Can't get no more details cause Black Ops." Sergeant Baracus shook his head. "Guessing she be a recruit-candidate, apparently has talent with bypassing security as she be getting into locked and supposed-to-be secure areas."
"The Reclaimers?" Judge Smith made a disgusted noise. "AKA the Turks? That's a right pain. All right, it's over your paygrade now. I'll forward the case on. Looks like we got enough evidence especially with the video?"
"We got enough - they either going to the Turks, the Suicide Squad, or whatever hole we want to throw 'em to," said Sergeant Baracus. "Gonna have charges for Mister Barnes for attempted bribery, threats he made, and interferin' with the law. Might be some of the school admin to throw under da bus too."
"Complicit?" asked Judge Smith.
"Up to their eyeballs," said Sergeant Baracus. "Looks like. Detective Peck working that angle right now."
"Faceman will find it if anyone can," agreed Judge Smith. "Next case?"
"Gang tags on level 9. Found a Xi Shun and Caroline Wing using paint supplies apparently stolen from a storage locker," said Sergeant Baracus.
* Admin Ring Reclamation Bureau, Level 14 *
"Well, she screwed up. She's out," said Director Piggot. "Where do we throw her?"
"Most efficient use of her skillset, immediately place her with the team heading down to the Tidewater Shelter. We lost contact with them two months ago and an extra Breaking and Entering specialist could be useful." Colin glanced over his clipboard. "There's also a team getting ready to head out - radio signal came up last month from Washington. Just a woman's voice repeating numbers but it might be something to investigate."
Director Piggot nodded. "See if her two friends would like to accompany her. At worst, we're down three troublemakers. At best, we get some experienced scavengers to replace the losses last month."
* Taylor *
Cleaning Fluid #1 was a soap-water combination with an anti-bacterial and anti-grease component. Cleaning Fluid #2 was meant to be used on concrete or rock facings and was described as a "low vapor lightly-acidic wash" in the description. Taylor had ended up taken with the others to the med-station on 8, where the splash could be washed off with only "minor" blistering and discoloration of the skin. Because of that swift treatment, no permanent injury was expected. Same with the injury where a metal bucket had impacted her head.
Taylor found some comfort in that it had not been the Type 3, but supplies of that was much more restrictive.
Instead Taylor was finding something odd happening, in that nothing much was happening. Even the hangers-on that seemed to go along with the bullying were now giving her room. It was odd, but it was welcome. She certainly wasn't going to complain about it, just take it while it lasted.
* January 15, 2011. Conference Room 1-D *
There were eighteen of them, all wearing the orange bodysuits and tracking anklets. Danny Hebert knew about three of them, but this wasn't something he was prepared to show any individual animosity with. He nodded to the scarred young man standing at the head of the room, who nodded back.
"Okay, this is a classified briefing. You will not discuss this with anyone outside of this room. You will not be given the opportunity beyond family contact in supervised areas. When and if you prove that you can be trusted, some restrictions will be lifted," said Danny. "This young man here is Brad Meadows. He is a survivor of thirteen missions so far - you will listen to him and it might just keep you alive. If you survive the first year, your odds of survival are greatly improved. Brad?"
"I was like you once, but there's a difference between me and the others that joined the same time I did. I'm alive," said Brad.
"You've repeatedly heard about the asteroid impact that ended the World That Was and how the climate change caused everything to fall apart," said Danny. "You have heard about the bad years with frantic construction of the shelters and the lotteries for spaces in them. The riots for every available resource. People killing other people just to have a chance at making room in a shelter. All of that is true. It isn't the whole story though."
Brad nodded, a flash of distaste showing as his gaze passed over certain members of the group, but he continued on. "Yeah, you got to worry about the Unchosen out there. They'll try to kill you for what you got or because they think you owe them something for surviving when they've had it rougher. There are freaking cannibal encampments where the food's run out and they see you as a food source. Don't get me wrong - they ARE dangerous. Most of 'em have been scavving all their lives and will have whatever weapons they can find or make. Even then they aren't the most dangerous thing out there."
"This is," said Danny Hebert, clicking a button that saw a curtain draw back.
What was revealed was a clawed hand and portion of arm that extended to just shy of the elbow. It was also roughly ten feet long.
"When that 'comet' hit, it brought something. Some weird crystalline lifeform. It isn't human but it seeks out and bonds with humans, twisting them into something else," said Brad. "This was once Seeker Captain Delacruz. He was exploring an attic in upstate New York when it hit him. I was the sole survivor of that little expedition. Every other person on that squad got absorbed into this and it was still growing when the Captain's explosives went off. Guy managed to arm and activate his demo charges before he got completely absorbed - got my respect for that. Not many people could do that when their bodies are being converted to this crap."
"You've got some basic training over the next week, on Monday you'll be officially named Squad Eleven. Mission will be to drop over to Washington and investigate a strange radio signal," said Danny Hebert.
* January 16, 2011 *
The woman's voice was calm and precise. "Sixteen. Thirty-five. Forty-two. Eleven. Ninety-three. Eleven."
"What does it mean?" asked Emma as she listened to the recording.
"Unknown at present," said the briefing agent, an old Asian guy named Kenta. "At one point she was doing 'pi' but then went to apparently random numbers. Indication is that the person who made this recorded her saying a bunch of numbers and then some computer is splicing the words together. You could hear that most clearly when she said 'thirty-five' when the voice is slightly different on the 'thirty' than when she said 'five' so it's unclear if there even IS a message."
"Why us? I mean, isn't this a bit much for a new group?" asked someone Sophia didn't know.
"The path to Washington was just charted last month with my group," said Kenta. "I only lost two people but then my group is considered one of the three elite groups and they were newbies. Only real problem is one gang that's heavily armed. Guy calls himself Skidmark - has a huge gang of raiders but there's two of his flunkies that are real nasty. Caught us by surprise because he usually doesn't venture far from the ruins of Brockton Bay. Anders has got a team heading to New York, materials search with a report from aerial drone of activity in a place we didn't expect. Roving cannibal group up North so you can't do a supply run that way to Toronto. The Tidewater base went silent, so we've got an A-Rank team heading that way. Wallis, I think. You guys are E-Rank until you can prove otherwise."
"We won't be there long," said Sophia with confidence.
"True," agreed Kenta. "You'll either be dead or moved to D-Rank by the end of the year."
* January 18, 2011 *
"You know," said Sophia casually, "we could always desert."
"I'd rather dessert," said Madison, who then flinched at the glare Sophia levelled at her.
"My dad will get us out before we get thrown out," said Emma. "He knows people."
"You've been saying that since we got grabbed," said Sophia. "No, I'm just bringing up we have more options on the table."
Madison glanced at the two before slumping in place. "Except then what? Join cannibals and hope we don't end up on the menu?"
"What about these other survivor groups?" asked Sophia. "There's that Ellisburg spot where that Calvert guy set up his little fiefdom. There's Skidmark's group. There's the shelter in Pennsylvania."
"There may be other options," admitted Madison. "Do you know we don't get all our food from Hydroponics? There's apparently some kind of farm complex still running out in Vermont somewhere."
* January 24 2011 *
They were quiet as they exited the tunnel, and Sophia sneered at the ones who started freaking out because there was abruptly no ceiling overhead.
Odd enough to be riding in the back of a truck, and then to be passing the weird cloth-over-framework things set around inside the interior fence.
"So that's what the tents look like when they're set up," noted Madison. "They look awfully... flimsy?"
Sophia nodded, not commenting as Emma suddenly looked like she was going to curl up in a little ball. Really, she'd thought Emma was tougher than this.
Guns and other things from what had once been called a 'National Guard' were scattered about in the yard but after a few minutes the larger and more reinforced outer fence was in view.
"They're repairing sections," noted one of the guys who wasn't freaking out. "That means that we got attacked."
Sophia glanced that way and finally nodded after considering what she was seeing. Apparently not everyone in her group was useless.
"What the hell is THAT?" asked another of the guys.
"They call them 'armored personnel carriers'," said the repair-noter.
"Not that - the thing over by the fire barrel," said nervous-guy.
"A corpse," called back their driver.
"A yoma," said repair-guy. "Or whatever you call them."
"Well, what's that then?" asked freaker-outer, pointing.
"It's a dog," said repair-guy.
"THAT is Ponta, and you don't diss Ponta," said the driver. "He's saved lives, repeatedly. Don't diss the dog."
"How can that thing save lives?" asked Emma.
"Dogs can sense when someone's infected," said the driver. "And don't diss him. Last warning or you'll end up walking."
"Yeah? I'd like to see you try something," said Emma.
* Admin Ring Reclamation Bureau, Level 14 *
"Okay, who had 'before they left the gate'?" asked Colin Wallis.
Director Piggot smiled.
* Staging Ground *
"Emma," said Sophia as she watched their ride go off without them.
"Yes?" asked Emma.
"What just happened?" asked Sophia.
"You just got into a fight with someone twice your size," said Madison.
"Not that part," said Sophia, glaring at Madison now.
"They were completely unreasonable," said Emma, turning around and heading back towards the shelter.
After a moment Sophia and Madison started following.
"Wait till my father hears about this!" said Emma after a few minutes of walking.
They'd nearly reached the doors before the guards raised their guns.
"Wrong way, ladies," said one of them. "Gate's the other way."
"You can't get away with this! My father will sue you into the ground!"
"Girl, if you take one more step towards the door, you're going to get hurt," promised the guard-type. The other guard had swapped out his rifle for a taser.
Emma took a step. At which point all three were unconscious.
* Author Notes *
There was a film in 1998 called Deep Impact, the first half of which was pretty good. It was marred by doing essentially the same plotline as a bigger-budget film released at the same time titled Armaggedon. Had the writers not gone in the exact same direction as that other film, it could have been much better and paved the way for sequels. Simply having the unlikely solution work (as both films ignored the mass vs force in order to have a last-minute heroic moment) was problematic when they could have had the actual likely results - comet hits Earth and only the people in the shelters survive. (As was the apparent case of the more recent film Greenland but that film glossed over a lot of things and didn't consider others.)
Had they instead had the comet strike the Earth, they could have then gone on to have other films/TV series dealing with the aftermath. Survivors trying to survive. Shelters having limited resources and personnel would allow for a series setting with limited sets and a "lifeboat" mentality setting in.
How would the Sheltered deal with the knowledge of the carnage outside?
How would the Sheltered deal with the knowledge that they were contained and unable to exit?
How would the Survivors deal with knowing that the Shelters had food and water and other resources they were left scrounging for?
What kind of maintenance and supply issues would plague the Shelters? How long could their supplies last?
What about families separated by the impact and its politics? If a family member couldn't get to the shelter in time, they'd end up permanently cut off from their loved ones - how would that affect them?
Hastily constructed bunkers would have problems that a more established one might not. How would the people in one shelter deal with it when another, newer, shelter suddenly went dark?