Asa
The eerie calm of the tunnels surrounds me as I descend the first few rungs of the escape ladder in Bunny and Paul's bedroom closet. Bunny went first and I handed their bags down to her. The children followed, both sleepy but excited by the adventure of something new. Like every child without a care in the world, they have no idea of the danger they're in. And with careful planning they might never know about what's going on the surface for the next few days.
I closed up the house and secured the doorways before heading down. The wooden floor of the closet was lowered into place and with one last spin, I tightened the hatch leading to the secret exit. Locked up tight.
They'll be safe.
I finish shimming down the metal rungs of the ladder and land on the concrete floor next to the waiting family. These kids remind me of my younger cousins years ago. I vividly recall how much those two loved exploring new places. A smile forms as I try to match my expression to the excitement I see on their faces. "Who's ready to see the cool underground bunker room?"
Two high-pitched voices screech their enthusiasm, and their small bodies look like they will barely be able to contain themselves another moment. "Me!" they yell in unison.
I grab their bags and start down the tunnel toward the inn. The trio follows me through the many twists and turns for about fifteen minutes, with the occasional calling out of words and phrases from the children to hear their voices echo in the tight space.
Eager to join in the fun, I call out "Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...." The three accompany me, one verse off, until it sounds like a squadron of Disney dwarves fills the dimly lit space. Thanks to the singing, their spirits are high and they seem unaware of the possible danger that drove them underground to begin with. Good, I'd rather not have to field difficult questions like that myself-let their mom deal with it.
I round one last bend and stop at a steel door, which lies about fifty yards from the north wing basement entrance. Behind the cold metal are two interconnecting rooms, the smaller one having the only functioning sink and toilet combination this close to the inn.
I reach in to flick on the overhead steel-caged bulb. The light illuminates the couch and TV that were in my bedroom. The small makeshift kitchen holds the borrowed fridge and microwave from the conference room, and a folding card table with chairs from a supply room on the main floor of the inn.
The kids burst through the opening and run squealing with delight around the center of the room. Bunny follows and puts her bag on the folding table. She looks around in awe, shocked at the clean appearance of the drab concrete room. "Wow, Asa. You really outdid yourself. I was expecting dusty Army cots in a 60s bomb shelter."
I shrug, not willing to admit the hours it took to clear out all the old munitions and supplies. It was a simple task and I was glad to do it for them. "Sorry-don't want to disappoint you-but cots are in the next room. They are newer and have clean mattresses."
The kids race into the smaller room and start to screech in excitement, "Mom! Mom! You have to see what's in here!"
She stops briefly near the coffee table, glancing at the PG movies I borrowed from Rafe's collection, and the Wii remotes and games. "These plus the books and school work they packed should keep them busy."
Bunny walks into the next room and stops dead. I'm right behind her and stay in the doorway to not crowd the family in the tight confines. Bed sheets from the upstairs guest rooms line the walls like closed curtains. Gathers of fabric, where I used the masonry gun to nail them to the concrete ceiling, drape to the wall, creating a tent-like feel to the room.
Cots line three walls, head and feet almost touching in the cramped space. The open door rests against the remaining wall with a naked sink protruding a few inches past it. Beyond the porcelain, sheets hang diagonally across the corner. Paul's son races to inspect what lies behind the fabric.
"Mommy," the five-year-old boy says with wonder, "there's a potty in here!"
His older sister ignores him, rushing to claim the cot she wants and tossing her backpack on top. "I love it, Uncle Asa! It's better than camping. No woods or stinky outhouse to pee in!"
Bunny turns to me, a look of astonishment on her face. She opens her arms and walks to me with moisture in her eyes. On tiptoes, she wraps herself around my neck and hugs me.
Unsure what to do, I close my arms loosely around her and hug her back gently. "Thank you," she rasps through a tear-ravaged voice. "You really went above and beyond."
Her grip loosens and she steps back. She pushes her dirty blond hair off her face and dries an eye. I let go and look away, not sure what to say in the face of her gratitude. I shrug, glad to see the three are happy with the results. Vivian won't be too pleased with the ruined sheets, but I'll replace those before they get back.
"I'd offer to cook you a meal in thanks," she says while looking over her shoulder at the squabbling children, "but we both know that won't work. And I'd offer you your preferred meal, if I didn't think Paul would be pissed." She smiles on the last comment when turning back, letting me know she's joking, but the sentiment is there.
A sharp squeeze around my heart surprises me. Absolute horror fills me for a second at the idea of biting her. Years of military training allow my face to remain expressionless so she's not aware of my thoughts. "It was no trouble. I'm glad to be of help."
I'd never want the physical pain of my bite to hurt someone I consider a friend. I look at the three a moment longer and then turn back to the main room, readying myself to leave. The agony of never having a family of my own overwhelms me. I hope Paul knows how lucky he is to have what will be denied to so many of us-forever.
Slipping the comfortable, stoic mask I always wear into place, I angle toward the steel door, remembering the map at the last minute.
"Asa?" I turn to Bunny while fumbling in my pocket for the paper. "How long do you think we'll be down here?"
"I'm not sure. Probably only a few days. I'll let you know." I unfold the map and pass the hand-drawn image to her. "This is a diagram for the remaining one hundred yards to the door leading to the north wing. Only come to the basement if there is an emergency."
She accepts the drawing and examines it. "This map isn't complete. Where is the rest of it?"
"Vivian won't allow maps of the tunnels. I did this partial so you'd get a general feel of where you were."
She nods. "Okay, but staying inside these small rooms might prove difficult after two days or so."
"Yeah, I know. But we might be using the tunnels and it really won't be safe for the kids to be wandering. It's very easy to get lost." I smile. "Trust me." I point to the hardwired phone on the wall. "This still works with local extensions on the property. Call us if you need anything."
Bunny rests her small hand on my arm. "Really, Asa, I can't thank you enough. Paul will be touched when he hears all you've done for us."
I shrug again, realizing I'm doing that a lot right now, and feel really stupid. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure to do it for the kids. It's a difficult situation, and I know Paul would do the same for me."
Bunny looks around the neat improvised room and shakes her head. "You obviously don't know Paul as well as I do. Manual labor was never his thing." She smiles to lessen the sharp implication of her words. "I love him to death," she breaks off, laughing at her own pun. "More like, I love him after death. But he's not the handiest guy on the planet."
I start once again for the door. "Oh, and your satellite phone won't work down here. You'll have to come to the main level and use it near an uncovered window."
She sighs and settles onto the couch. "Yeah, I figured it might be something like that. Thanks for letting me know."
I nod my goodbye and close the door, hearing her and the kids calling out their thanks and goodnights. It's almost five a.m. I wonder if she'll be able to get them back to sleep tonight or if the little buggers will be up for the day.
Within a few minutes I'm in the command center. Eric kept watch while I readied the rooms and brought the small family underground. He's stretched out, his feet up on the desk, alert and scanning the monitors. Good. Considering he napped only briefly before relieving me, I'm impressed he's awake.
"Any news?" I ask, expecting nothing.
He turns to look at me, and yawns. "As a matter of fact, yes."
I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to elaborate.
"Call came through from the airstrip. They got a radio signal from a small plane asking to land."
"Really? The radio works? When did the call come in?"
"About five minutes ago. Yeah, something about radio waves not needing a cell tower but a direct radio frequency. It works as long as we have power."
"Could we reach Coldfoot with it?"
"Not sure. Might be too far away. But I think it would only work if someone was listening." Eric gets to his feet and stretches. "Don't you want to know who's about to land?"
"I know who it is-Cy."
"He's the one married to Aunt Cali, right?
"Yeah. I stayed with them for a couple of years after I got back to the States. They run that club up in Manhattan."
"Yeah, I remember, now. When you were so close and yet still never visited us in West Milford." His grimace quickly drops to show he's joking. "I still haven't talked to Aunt Cali since I changed. Funny how everyone always called her crazy when she talked about other species living among us. Turns out she wasn't, huh?"
I nod. "Kind of ironic that she hooks up with a dead guy so soon after she was infected by a werewolf. He's not bad, though. An information and computers expert. He runs all Vivian's background checks and digs up dirt on people."
"Isn't he the one that gave you all the false info on Emiko three months ago?"
"Not his fault. Someone planted it. The fake cover was pretty in-depth and took some time to build. He's more careful, now."
Eric shifts his attention to the monitoring. "Really? Gee, that instills confidence. Hey, look at this." He points on the screen where lights on the wings' tips flash in the dark sky over the resort's airport. "Something's wrong. He's coming in fast and his wings aren't even."
We watch the image together, waiting to see if he'll make it in safely or crash trying. The small four-seater plane comes into view as it's about to touch the ground. The wheels touch briefly before bouncing on the tarmac, careening the plane into the air off the runaway. Eric toggles the cameras to the next angle, ensuring we miss none of the action.
The wings totter up and down, and the nose keeps dipping. It takes some fighting on the pilot's part but the aircraft touches down. The landing gear rips off from the impact and the plane thunders through the darkness, leaving a trail of sparks before skidding to a stop in the tundra beyond the airfield's landing lights.
A figure emerges from the mangled hull, and in a blink it's gone. The camera has trouble picking up what we could discern easily-a man racing toward the hangar.
"Holy shit!" Eric whips around. "Did you see that?"
"Yeah." My brows draw together in worry. "That shouldn't have happened. He's been flying for years."
"Maybe something happened to his plane."
"Where's Jon?" I ask, worried there may have indeed been something very wrong with Cy's aircraft.
"He's sleeping. He said to give him 'til at least six."
My watch reads quarter past five now, and darkness lasts until almost seven this morning. The phone on the desk rings and Eric jumps at the sudden sound. "Man I'm jittery. That landing was intense."
I grab the phone and hear my Aunt's undead husband on the other end. "I made it. But just barely."
"We were watching from here," I say. "What happened?"
"Someone fired several rounds when I circled to land. I was pretty high up, so I'm guessing it was a long-range rifle. Took out a lot of my electrical systems and fluids started pouring out at an alarming rate. I'm lucky it didn't go up in flames on the skid."
"I don't recommend you leave the building the conventional way. They could be watching the exits and vehicles."
"What do you suggest?"
I weigh the options in my mind and realize Vivian and Rafe must trust Cy or they wouldn't have used him as a backup plan if things went south and they hadn't heard from us. Then again, they were probably counting on him coming with help and not being alone on the West Coast for a business trip at the time they made the arrangements. "Give me about twenty minutes, and I'll be there from underground."
"Underground passageways?" he barks out with a touch of disbelief in his tone. "This I've got to see."