Prologue
“Mom?”
Smoke had filled Grace’s lungs to near compacity. She saw nothing but darkness, with only a flicker of light from the emergency panel across the bunker. She kept her body pressed against the ground, afraid to move. Tears began welling up in her eyes as time went on. She let out a cough and felt a jolt of pain coursing through her spine. She knew she was hurt from the moment she woke up. Her fingers were covered in soot, and the rest of her probably was too.
“Mom!” She said again, trying to be louder but failing miserably.
She could hear the faint crying of women not too far from her. Yet they sounded so distant. She wished she could see them so that she can shed warmth in their direction. Grace was only 10 years old, but she knew she’d be able to calm them.
Pressing her palms against the ground, she tried to lift her body. Another jolt of pain stopped her, and she coiled back to the ground. A firm hand grasped her leg, startling her. She instantly relaxed when she saw her mother’s dark blue gaze. Her silver hair was covered in soot. She had a gash on her cheek, with blood trickling down and soaking into her torn and dirty clothing. Grace had never seen her mother look so weak before; she had never seen her look so scared.
Grace opened her mouth to say something, but her mother, Ophelia, pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. Tears blocked Grace’s vision and she lay her head on the ground. Ophelia managed to sit herself up and peer around the surrounding area. The smoke began clearing and she could see the terrified faces of those around her.
Women, men, and children all stared back at her with wide, misty eyes.
Some of them hadn’t woken up yet.
Some of them wouldn’t.
Initially, there were fifty of them in the bunker; now there had to be at most thirty. They all looked to Ophelia for guidance, though she was just as clueless as everyone else. She would never let them know that though. They needed a leader; someone strong. Someone they could depend on. Someone that they can trust to get them to safety. There was a man like that. Commander Johnathan Williams. A man that Ophelia came to trust over the years.
However, he had no pulse.
Leading wasn’t something she was new at. She worked as the head Aerospace Engineer for NASA, for decades. She designed aircraft, spacecraft, missiles, and satellites. The crew would often come to her with proposals for new projects and she had to evaluate them before approving them. She had always been respected amongst her peers and a trusted member of the team.
Grace was still pressed against the ground. Ophelia could see the blood seeping through the back of her shirt. Turning back to the others, she finally found the strength to speak.
“Please check your loved ones…” her voice was hoarse; she hardly even recognized it.
She didn’t care how weak she sounded, she needed to maintain a calm head. She knelt next to Grace and ripped the rest of Grace’s shirt off. She had a long gash leading down her spine; caused by a rope she was holding onto during the explosion. She knew there was a first aid kit in the bunker’s bathroom; however, she was afraid to leave Grace alone. Even if it was only for a couple of seconds.
She spotted Sara not far from where they were. Sara had always acted as Ophelia’s assistant; she was Ophelia’s right hand. She was a Software Engineer for NASA and someone Ophelia trusted deeply. She was probably the closest thing that Ophelia had to a friend. At that moment, though, Sara wasn’t looking at Ophelia. Her wide almond eyes were staring at the woman that lay in front of her.
Her mother.
Sara was pale. Her usually sleek black hair was put in a messy and tangled ponytail. The bottom of her lip was quivering as she struggled to keep herself together. Ophelia understood how hard it was to comprehend what had happened.
“Will you take the role of commander?” She turned to see Astrophysicist, Martin Baker, nearing her.
She didn’t have an answer for him, but he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear so she knew she had to say something.
“That isn’t a concern right now,” she told him. She tried and failed, to keep the pain out of her voice. Her fingers trembled as they traced the gash along Grace’s back. “Martin,” Ophelia said, keeping her eyes locked on his. She could tell he’s been crying due to the redness around the brown coloring of his eyes. His olive skin was also covered in soot. His shirt and hands were covered in blood; Ophelia didn’t know if it was his blood or someone else’s. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom. I need you to retrieve it for me.”
He nodded without hesitation.
“On it, Commander,” he said as he strolled past her and towards the bathroom.
She rolled her eyes at his titling for her.
Sara was still fixated on her deceased mother; unable to look away from the sight in front of her. Many people here had lost their loved ones, their families, their friends, and their neighbors. Ophelia felt helpless to them all.
Martin came back moments later with a medium-sized red box. He handed it to Ophelia who released the latch to open it. Revealing the needed medical supplies. She took out Hydrogen Peroxide and a cloth.
Grace winced and let out a shriek as the peroxide cleaned out her wound. Tears ran down her face, despite Ophelia’s attempts to calm her. Her heart tugged as her daughter lay there in pain. Her body was so small, and she looked so helpless. Ophelia bandaged her back and wrapped her around a blanket to keep her body covered.
Turning back to Martin, she noticed his grim look as he scanned the surrounding area.
“Your family?” Ophelia asked, barely managing a full sentence.
“They are okay,” he answered to Ophelia’s slight relief.
His wife Charlene and 15-year-old son David had survived.
“Co… co… Commander…” a faint stutter came from Sara. She hadn’t noticed Sara approaching until she spoke. “What are we going to do with the dead…?” she choked out the question as though it pained her to ask.
At that moment Ophelia knew that she had no choice but to become their leader. The commander. She needed to bring order to those around her to ensure their safety and to keep them calm. She stood to her feet so she can get a better look at every one. They all stared back, wide-eyed, mourning, and frightened.
“We move them to the back room to get them out of the foyer area. It’ll be easier if they aren’t in our faces. Plus, there will be more room for the rest of us.” She tried to keep her voice steady and her tone calm. No one said anything, but a couple of them nodded in agreement. “We won’t leave this area until we know it is safe. The space cruiser is in a protective terminal. Once we examine the outside world to see if it’s safe, we will move to the space cruiser for takeoff.”
The room was still met with silence.
Sighing, she spoke again.
“I know this is difficult. We have lost so many. Tonight, we will do a ceremony for the lives lost. Many are injured. Martin will come around with the first aid kit for those who need it. Try to rationalize the supplies for they are limited. Children and pregnant women should be cared for first.”
They nodded in agreement and looked amongst one another.
“Um…” Sara said, her tone still quivering. “We should check the computers and see if they are still working.” Ophelia nodded once in her direction.
“Good plan,” she agreed, quiet enough for only Sara to hear. The computer system was in a separate room, which functioned as Ophelia’s office. She knew Sara needed to escape for a little while before she lost her mind. “Do you want to go ahead and do that?” Ophelia asked. She gave her a forced, sad smile and nodded slowly as she headed towards the computer room.
“Who did this…?” A man asked, his voice raspy. Ophelia didn’t know where the voice came from, so she addressed them all.
“As of right now, we are unsure. But I promise you. We will find out. And we will bring them to justice.”
