“The president suite,” he says. “That’s where he was supposed to survive for a few years. He never got here. Now it’s mine.”
He walks to the wall and pushes a button. I tense as one of the walls moves and opens into a large window with a view over the valley and canyons below. So, we’re not underground anymore. This room is carved into the mountainside. It doesn’t make me feel better, as I won’t be able to escape that way without falling to my death. But I have to admit, it’s a nice view.
“The shutters are eight inches thick,” he explains. “And designed to look like a rock when closed, hiding this place from view. It can withstand and dissipate a nuclear blast.”
But can it withstand the wrath of a god?
“How do you get electricity?” I ask instead.
“There’s an underground river that runs under the bunker. Thirty years ago, they installed a hydropower station. We got it running when we found that place. Everything sat in perfect condition for years, just waiting to be found. We tried calling it different names, but the name Bunkertown stuck too much. Simple minds, simple ideas. We have hydroponic gardens with UV lights for food. And we intend to carve gardens outside too. We have water, electricity, and food.”
“Why the slaves?” I ask. Because I can’t help myself.
His cool gaze lands on me. That look used to make me cower. But I’m not fourteen anymore, and I’ve lived an eventful life.
“You were always so soft,” Oliver says. “I liked that about you, even if it was a weakness. It was okay because I was strong enough for the both of us.”
I bristle. “Not putting people into slavery is not a weakness. And don’t flatter yourself.”
He raises an eyebrow. “It looks like you’ve grown fangs during those ten years.”
“You have no idea,” I say.
His laugh is cruel. He gets a hold of my arm and drags me to the far end of his quarters. I struggle in vain. He’s as strong as Griffin. There’s a chain hammered into the wall. He locks it to my foot, and once again, I find myself on a tight leash.
“Oh, Helios. When you disappeared, I looked for you,” he says in a calm voice. Too calm. “I was frantic. Then, when I couldn’t find you, I mourned you. Surely, after a year, if you were unable to find your way back to me, it meant that you had died tragically somewhere. Did you know? I was devastated. Then, years later, I crossed paths with a merchant who told me stories of his travels. Funny, he met a boy once who was called Helios. A boy who was running away from something. Imagine my shock when I understood that you had left voluntarily. You abandoned me to the caprice of the world, even though I saved you and cared for you.”
“You didn’t care for me. You owned me like a pet!” I shout.
He comes closer, until I have to crane my neck to hold his cold eyes. “Is that so? I guess you won’t see a difference now that you’re tied to my wall.” He smiles. “Get comfortable, Helios. This time, you’re not going anywhere.”
And he walks away and leaves me alone in his quarters.
15
Broken promises.
“Subject seventy-eight was one of the reasons why they hesitated to release their creations into the world when the project was abandoned. He was unruly and dangerous. By age five, he had electrocuted three scientists to death. The idea of letting him out was… terrifying. And he shared no love for his caregivers. They explored the idea of cold-blooded murder. He could be put to sleep, and no one would have been the wiser. And after all, who could have punished them for it? The world, as we knew it, was gone. There were no more tribunals. No more law enforcement. But subject seventy-eight, like his monstrous counterpart, was as slippery as an eel. He killed his caregivers and escaped. If he survived, I hope I never cross paths with him out there in the wild.”
Extract of a letter by Adam Sadder, assistant to Dr. Nolan, a scientist who worked on the Revival Project, 2054.
Oliver was always difficult to handle. Not because of the times when he was cruel, but because of the times when he wasn’t. I was still a kid, and he cared for me in his own way. He killed anyone who looked at me wrong or said anything about me. And he showed me his vulnerable side at night in the dark when we slept in the same bed. I held him in my arms when he woke up screaming from nightmares, and he did the same for me. He wasn’t just my jailer. He was also my comfort, my lover, and my family.
Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever did. But it was also the best decision I ever took.
And now I’m back in his clutches. Except this time, he knows I’ll do everything in my power to leave him again. I’ve lost his trust forever.
“Fuck…” I say out loud.
The chain at my foot is long enough to let me reach the toilet and the shower. So after half an hour, I decide to indulge. The quick hosing down wasn’t enough to wash away the dried blood on my skin. I was never one to refuse an opportunity to get clean. I realize with delight that the water runs hot. There was no way the President of the United States would have taken a cold shower.
Once I’m out, I wrap myself in the blanket again. I’m still naked. The chain at my foot doesn’t let me reach any other part of the large room.
I curl into a ball on the cold floor and try to sleep, thinking about peaceful days with Griffin on theBeetle.
It’s during the dark hours that Oliver comes back. The moonlight shines through the large window, outlining his figure as he walks in. He throws a plastic bag on the floor in front of me. It makes a wet and heavy sound as it lands. I have a bad feeling about this.
“A gift for you,” he says as he sits on the bed.
