Chapter 7 - The Blast Door
The airlock door was a massive circular wheel made of solid steel, identical to the hatch on a submarine. Beside it was a small control panel with a green button and an electronic card reader.
I reached the hatch, my lungs bursting, sweat dripping into my eyes.
I slammed my palm down on the green button.
The heavy hydraulic system hummed to life. The steel wheel began to rotate automatically, slowly unlatching the thick locking pins around the rim.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Behind me, thirty yards up the dark tunnel, beam lights from tactical flashlights began to cut through the darkness.
"There she is!" a voice yelled. "Stop right there, lady!"
"Hurry... hurry... please hurry," I sobbed, pulling on the heavy steel handle of the circular door as it cracked open three inches.
The hatch was heavy—weighing hundreds of pounds—and moved at a agonisingly slow pace.
A gunshot echoed down the narrow tunnel.
THWACK.
The bullet struck the concrete wall two feet above my head, spraying sharp bits of dust and rock chips into my hair.
Marcus screamed, burying his head completely into my shoulder.
I didn't think. I squeezed my body through the narrow six-inch opening of the unlatched steel door, dragging Marcus through behind me into the small steel airlock chamber.
I reached back out, grabbing the inside handle of the heavy circular door, pulling with every ounce of strength left in my body.
A man in a black ski mask rushed into view outside the tunnel opening, raising a shotgun toward the gap.
"Don't!" he yelled.
I slammed the circular steel hatch shut.
BANG.
The door hit the frame just as a blast of shotgun pellets peppered the outside steel plate with a sound like heavy hail.
I grabbed the internal manual locking wheel and spun it clockwise with all my weight.
Click-click-click-CLACK.
The five-inch steel locking bars shot out into the surrounding frame, sealing the airlock completely.
I collapsed onto the cold metal floor of the bunker, pulled Marcus into my lap, and wept hysterically, my whole body shaking uncontrollably.
On the other side of the six-inch steel door, I could hear heavy boot kicks and angry muffled curses, but the barrier was impenetrable. We were inside the vault.
Marcus looked up at me, his little hands reaching up to wipe the tears from my cheeks.
"Don't cry, Mommy," Marcus whispered softly, his brown eyes full of pure, innocent love. "The cave is safe now."
I pulled him tight, kissing his cheeks, his hair, his tiny hands. "Yes, baby. We're safe. We're safe."
In the corner of the small airlock chamber, a wall-mounted communications monitor flickered to life.
A sharp, crisp tone sounded from the speaker, followed by a voice that made my heart leap with relief.
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"Elena? Elena, can you hear me?"
It was Dominic.
