The Refuge

The girl wiped away beads of sweat from her soot-smeared forehead. She sighed with relief at the sound of the whistle filling the chamber. “Shift over, back to your bunkers,” a voice spat over the loud speaker. She was relieved to finish her shift shovelling loads of grimy stinking coal, a job she deeply loathed. The girl had never been outside the Refuge; a mining facility turned make-shift bomb shelter, kept functional via an archaic coal-powered system. It was the only place she had ever known, but instead of a home it felt like a prison to confine her until death made its claim. The only person close to her that had seen the world outside was her grandmother. Her family were evacuated from their village in the summer of 1952 when the war turned hot, and bombs were sent everywhere. She arrived at the Refuge when she was only ten-years-old, living most of her 60 years underground with the ‘Last of Humanity’. Or so they were told when the MAD signal came through. The Guardians of the Refuge, the cruel authority in charge, were the outcome of wealthy evacuees gradually corrupting and usurping poorly organised military forces. They turned what was intended to be a safe haven into a draconian nightmare for the underclass majority. Their rules were clear; no education of any kind – education leads to ideas and ideas are dangerous; work is the only priority – if we don’t keep the furnaces burning, we die; and no questioning the authority! "We survive by the will of the Guardians," was ingrained into every facet of their lives, playing repeatedly over the loud speaker together with the sounds of air-raid sirens. All to remind them about the apocalyptic wasteland outside, and to ensure the workers remained afraid enough to respect the order of things. The girl saw how living in the Refuge was especially hard for her grandmother after knowing life on the outside. But her grandmother found purpose in secretly teaching the girl to read by drawing letters in the film of dirt beneath their beds, and telling stories about her childhood studying the flowers in the woods beyond her home. Her grandmother’s dream was to build the world’s largest botanical garden holding a million plant species, a dream that was never meant to be. The girl longed to feel the warmth of the sun her grandmother spoke about and to breathe air that didn’t carry the stale remnants of the furnaces. The Refuge was cold, industrial and devoid of colour other than patches of rust coating the walls and ceilings, making it difficult at times to envision the world full of beauty her grandmother had described. The girl was always careful not to reveal she could read in front of the Guardians as they enforced the rules with extreme malevolence, often beating workers for their own amusement. They would also refer to them as 'shelter rats' to reinforce the status quo. She had witnessed many of them brutalised beyond recognition for even the slightest remark. No one spoke-out though, because they likely feared the consequences of doing so. Even though they outnumbered the guardians, they didn’t have the strength to fight back. Her grandmother died 10-years ago, one of the last evacuees from the 20 thousand that arrived 50 years earlier. Five years before her grandmother’s death, her mother and father both died of exhaustion and malnourishment, a common death among the workers. The girl didn't expect she would live much longer as she looked much older than fifteen, with sickly pale skin pulled tightly over her withered frame, grey rotting teeth, hair falling out in clumps and a constant feeling of fatigue from enduring years of heavy labour. She wanted nothing more than to just die in her sleep, at least then she could rest in peace with her family. But every morning she awoke to a familiar sense of dread. “Oi you, shelter rat, did you not hear the announcement? Shift is over back to your bunker,” one of the guardians snarled at her. She nodded obediently before being forcefully shoved to follow behind the others.

She hung her jumpsuit on the hook above her cot and climbed into her cold musty bed. The cots on either side of her had belonged to her family remaining empty since their deaths, along with many of the other beds in the bunker. She could not recall a single child born in the last couple of years and the number of workers had dwindled from thousands to no more than a few hundred. “ten minutes till lights out,” a voice hollered through the half empty bunker. She lay down facing her grandmother’s cot, and then she noticed it; a small section of the wood grain along the base of the bed didn’t align, as though it was an entirely different section. Letting curiosity get the better of her, she discretely slid out of her bed, crouching low to the ground. She pushed on the odd section of wood, and it opened like a drawer. Inside was a package wrapped in an old cloth. She quickly grabbed it and pushed the wooden drawer back in place. She shoved the package under her shirt before climbing back into her bed, hiding herself under the sheets. A few moments later the lights went out and the room fell silent. She waited for some time before she dared to open the package. The hallway light shining into the room offered enough glow for her to see clearly what she had discovered. Inside the cloth was a journal with beautiful drawings of flowers adorning the cover; they looked exactly as her grandmother had described in her stories. The journal contained sketches of seeds showcasing growth cycles along with detailed descriptions of each plant. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of the drawings. She felt as though her grandmother was there with her in that moment. The girl was astounded her grandmother had managed to keep the journal hidden for all this time highlighting its significance. As she neared the end, she noticed a section cut-out between pages. Inside was a gold chain with a heart shaped locket hanging from it. It was decorated with delicate filigree carvings and a faceted stone the colour of blood set in the centre. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. As she studied the intricacies of the locket, she noticed a little section sticking out and instinctively pushed on it. To her surprise, the locket swung open and inside were what looked like the seeds in her grandmother’s journal. She gently rolled her hand over them amazed that something seemingly insignificant had the potential to grow into something so beautiful. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to escape the Refuge. She didn’t even care that the world outside was uninhabitable, she needed to find a way out, she owed it to her grandmother to at least try. The girl wrapped everything back together and tucked it away securely.

The next day she was careful not to seem enthusiastic, to avoid arousing suspicion. She finished her rations quickly and went to report for duty. To her luck she was stationed exactly where she needed to be. She kept glancing at the door trying to time it so she could slip through the guardian’s entrance between patrols. She was about to make a run for it, when one of the older workers collapsed in a heap. Suddenly, guardians came rushing into the chamber to see what the commotion was about. She waited until everyone was crowded around the collapsed worker before she made a dash through the door. She frantically looked around for somewhere to hide before noticing a ladder leading up to an air-duct. Without a second thought, she climbed up as fast as her frail body would allow. Half out of breath, she pushed open the cover and slid inside, replacing the cover just as two guardians came into the room. She lay as quietly as she could through short laboured breaths watching the guardians closely. The two made their way down a corridor so she decided to follow the vent in that direction. After a while she heard a conversation taking place somewhere beneath her, and crawled over to the opening to hear what was being said. “Samples are all clear, looks like the colonies will be heading outside next week. I’m heading to the party at the dome to celebrate,” one of the guardians proclaimed. “Half your luck, I’m on patrol,” The other replied. “Just come to the party, we’re all going. Those shelter rats are too afraid to misbehave, they will never even notice us gone,” he added with a chuckle. “Yeah I guess we don’t need them to maintain the dome systems anymore. They’re getting gassed next week anyway.” Just then, a large group entered the room chatting and laughing loudly. “Is that everyone?” a voice called out before the group left together.

The dome they spoke of must have been constructed with the intention that only the upper echelon of society would survive at the disposal of the workers. The girl felt a mix of anger and betrayal at the revelation. She wanted to scream but managed to stay calm. She still needed to escape and didn’t want to risk being caught now. After composing herself, she located and climbed down the ladder glancing at the various control panels in the room. She noticed one labelled ‘CM Gas’ and below it there were two options; the Refuge or The Dome, and levers to open the corresponding valves. Realising what it was intended for, she knew what needed to be done.

She jammed the exit door so it remained open for the others, before making her way out through a long tunnel. As she neared the opening a bright light came pouring in. She couldn’t believe how energising sunshine on her skin and fresh air in her lungs could feel, stopping briefly to enjoy the moment. She gazed around at the barren quarry, but couldn’t see any obvious signs of life, just rocks and dirt. She noticed a path leading down into a valley and decided to follow it. In the valley sat an elaborate glass dome with many buildings safely housed inside. It looked as though it was big enough to accommodate thousands of people, likely even all the evacuees. She walked down to take a closer look. The group of guardians were making their way to a balcony that was filled with affluent looking people standing around talking and laughing. A particularly elegant woman had noticed the girl outside, and got the attention of other party guests who were pointing in her direction. One of the guardians had noticed her staring from outside and hurried towards the exit. But he didn’t get far before falling into a lifeless heap. Suddenly, people began to drop dead to the ground as poisonous gas filled the dome. The elegant woman stared at the girl in disbelief before succumbing to the deadly vapour. There was a frenzy of people rushing around trying to escape, but their efforts were futile. She stared emotionless at the mayhem unfolding within the dome until the last body fell to the ground, and then she turned, and walked away.

She retrieved the locket holding it close to herself with an air of reverence and purpose. Even if the seeds may be too old to grow anything from, she intended to plant them in memory of her grandmother. She may not have a million plant species, but she had hope, and that was something new to her. She was unsure if she would find others like her or if there were other places like the Refuge, but that didn’t matter for now, all she knew was for once she looked forward to what a new day might bring.